Day 85 - Taman Negara

The 25th June was our last full day in the Cameron Highlands the place I have really grown to love. My first thing to check upon awaking was the result of the England vs Italy Quarter Final in Euro 2012. As I suspected and hoped they were eliminated on penalties. Fans will now go about blaming all kinds of things on not winning this time (or any other time), most likely morale which England always has a reason for not being able to summon. That said it seems what other teams and nations think of England is true. The team has no passion. All defense and waiting for a counter-attack that may never happen. This self-doubt and insecurity as a nation and not just a national team culminates and is summarised in how England almost always goes out of internationals; penalties. When it comes to confidence there is no better show than one-on-one penalty shoot-outs. I am also glad that England went out for playing John Terry. No self respecting company or employer would do anything but suspend pending a full enquiry someone caught on camera calling a comrade a "black cunt". Playing him then shamelessly trying to overcompensate by a tasteless PR stunt of sending some of the team to Auschwitz the day is pathetic in the extreme. So I'm happy, Euro 2012 will be won by a deserving team. Back to my travels.

I will miss the Camerons and have truly found a place I will love and want to come back to but probably won't. Sarah observes that it is touristy, and it looks just that in the towns of Tanah Rata and Brinchang and the tea plantations. That aside our guide informed us that the area is 85% reliant on farming and is indeed the vegetable basket for Malaysia and beyond. Taking a figure like that at face value, it would seem that should the Malaysian government decide that tomorrow no more tourist visas will be issued, the Cameron Highlands would survive. This in my book makes it one of the less touristy places on our journey, and considerably less touristy than where I grew up in Cornwall.

My last day in the Camerons I wanted to go for a solo hike. I knew Sarah was meant to be recuperating and she seemed happy enough blogging so I headed off to the nearest trail. After rechecking my guidebook and being sure that the trail leaves from what looks like a private back garden I was quickly on my own. I was merrily skipping away, climbing up little rocks and ducking under trees that had fallen on the path. All the time sweating but cooled off by the cool temperature which I'm sure I've mentioned already. Suddenly I had a quick flash-back to our guide the day prior, telling us to watch out for snakes as it was mating season. All of a sudden as I was 2km into the walk I became concerned and looked at my feet a lot and looking hard at the trees I was ducking under. Still I played a stat in my mind, how few people get attacked by snakes, then played that stat off against how long it had been since I'd seen another person should I be bitten and need help.  Still I carried on and came to a fork in the trail. I took the trail 10 route as this seemed to go to a peak of some sorts. Still skipping for a while, but slowing down as the trail became a steep climb, to an actual climb. Now in the part where I was using 4 limbs to travel, I saw to my left a black snake perhaps 2 foot long (I'm bad at measurements, but I think that is conservative) slither across my path and into the bushes. Obviously his tongue which can measure a slightest change in temperature sensed this 14 stone mound of sweat bouncing along and tried to get away. I was not about to prevent his escape as it suited us both. But I became paranoid and no longer felt safe using 4 limbs and turned back. Every step checking what I was stepping on. I have a huge fear of snakes I'm ashamed to say. On the way down and near to the garden where I started another snake slithered off the path in front of me. The place was infested with them. Well 2 hours walking and only seeing two snakes may not count as infested, but it was two more snakes than humans I saw in that time. I returned to safety and to Sarah. Once on the road I gave thanks that the situation didn't arise where I was tying a tournique around my leg and hopping back to a hospital, stopping to suck venom out. Or worse still a villager come up to me and make me ly down and smoke some opium while they heat a knife and sizzle it against the infected wound. I'm being a little bit dramatic now.

The 26th June we were up for 8am to take the 3 hour bus journey to Jerantut a place that serves purely as a jetty for where we would pick up a boat to take us for a further 2 hours into the village of Kuala Kampung Tahan opposite Taman Negara. A quick heads-up; Taman Negara is a protected national park, and protected it should be as it is 130 million years old. Ice ages, crashing plates and comets have left this rain forest in peace, and it is truly an honour to enjoy something that is relatively untouched by humans. The boat journey was enjoyable and for the whole 2 hours we saw nothing much, until we arrived at the village. The village looks like it is accessible only from the river, but a quick walk to the other side and a main road is visible, which takes a little of the remoteness shine away. On arrival we were told where are guesthouse was, up a steep walk and take a left and there it is, 10 minutes at least. The Tahan Guesthouse is a hippy heaven. Painted green as a background but loads of flowery murals. In the garden there are signs hanging from trees with messages like "Every thought it a seed" and "1 + 1 = 2 not 11?". The room stays close to the decor, but with a balcony and a mosquito net and a fan covering the whole bed the place is airy as it needs to be as we are now away from the cool tea country temperature.

We signed up for the night jungle walk. I must admit I wasn't bowled over with enthusiasm for this. Let me tell you why. Man going into the jungle has been an important part of our development. If it was not for the second children of Victorian society, the ones not inheriting the family estate, so had to get daddies attention by delving into the jungle with big mutton chop side-burns and a bible. They taught us so much about anthropology. Today scientists going into a jungle come out with treatments for cancer and erectile dysfunctions. Now I'm a first born child of today, I would not know where to look for a new drug amongst the leeches and ants, so there is absolutely no reason for me to wander into the jungle, but that I did. My interest picked up as the fear of snakes and scorpions subsided. In any case there were plenty in our group wearing vests and flip-flops and they were surely at the frontline of any attack from the tiny beasties. We walked at a glacial pace as the guide looked with a torch to find things of interest. During the jaunt he founds us many crickets, stick insects, spiders (some deadly, and I need to come back to this point), a green tree snake (not poisonous but can be snappy), a scorpion and a deer. The point I need to come back to. Sarah, and I've sort of mentioned this before under the butterfly post, is scared of spiders. Many a time back in our home I'd be watching TV and hear an earth shattering shreak. I would then feel manly as I came to the rescue with a piece of paper and a glass letting a harmless house spider out into the cold north england air to fend for itself. On this walk, there she was under order bending forward looking closely at a spider which had the ability to bite you and give you 2 days of violent fever. I'm sure when the wife reads this she will explain this irregularity. The walk finished with a trip to the top of a tower. From there we told to turn off our torches. Not hard for us as we had prepared for everything, well prepared for not getting attacked by leeches, but we had no torches personally and were relying on others. The tower was a sort of hide overlooking a water source which would hopefully tempt bigger wildlife. Of the bigger wild life in the park there are tigers, many monkeys, elephants, jaguar and deer. Most of which have the good sense to not come near the wooden platform path that we walk on. However, just before leaving and giving up we spotted some deer. In all a very memorable experience and besides my sarcasm I'm really glad we did it.

Very hippy Tahan Guesthouse

Today the 27th June, we were on our own and decided to explore the jungle on our own. About noon we got a boat across to the park and walked the raised wooden path through the jungle and an saw more clearly the amazingly tall trees which we couldn't obviously appreciate in darkness. From there we walked about 2km to our focus point of the Canopy Walkway. Now we were told to go with a group or leave early as queues for the Canopy build up. Maybe I should first explain what the Canopy Walkway is. Well its a series of rope bridges linking the top of trees and you walk carefully and literally amongst the tree tops of the jungle. A scary but interesting activity. The rope bridges being what they are only let 4 people on at once. This is where the queues build up, and reading the guide book and listening to the tour salesmen all recommending a 9:30am start to beat the crowds, Sarah and I being the great strategists we are used the reverse psychology and left casually at noon and largely had the Canopy Walkway to ourselves. I'm scared of heights as well as snakes. I say this even though I have twice bungeed and once jumped from a plane. Still heights make my legs jelly up, and the walkway planks missing a rivet or a nail or didn't help. That aside when I summoned the courage and looked out over the trees I quickly realised this is a view of the world you don't see very often, just looking across trees. It was an unmissable experience. And importantly not single leech to my knowledge, even though every guide book read said peeling a leech off or letting the little bastard suck your blood for 20 minutes until he's full was a certainty.

As with all heights I love coming back down safely. Also on coming down I came to appreciate how sweaty the jungle has made us. My vest and trousers clingling to me, even though the effort we put into this was moderate. We consumed water with a vengeance. The bliss of returning to our room for a shower is a pleasure unmatched. Tomorrow it is Sarah's birthday and she is doing what she wanted for her birthday, cavorting with elephants. Of course I will let you know how it goes.

82 Days - Nice cuppa chaa

This morning we had something a little alien for a while, a 7am alarm clock. I'm not endearing those who are working and reading this as that is a normal alarm clock. This morning tucked up in a the cool temperature of the mountains, we could really have dozed for many more hours. That said our tour was to pick us up at 8:45 and take us for a tour of the Cameron Highlands.

Our first stop on the way was to the Boh Tea Plantation. This is a Scottish family run business started founded in 1929 by a Mr Russell and today is run by his descendant Catherine Russell who seemingly exploits cheap labour but offers housing to Indian migrant workers. The area is beautiful in the extreme, with the patchwork of tea plants surrounding the factory. The factory itself is quite small, at least the one we saw was, there are a couple of others and our guide told us these were bigger more mechanised operations. The first thing that hit me as we approached the factory and walked into it was the smell of the tea operation was beyond pleasant. There is as multi step process to tea making, but as I'm trying to stick to some sort of principle that I write from memory, if you are interested please follow this Wiki link; TEA PRODUCTION. Anyway after looking interested at the factory section we retired to the cafe or 'Tearia' as they called it, for a Strawberry Tart and a cuppa. Drinking the tea and microwaved cake with the tea plantations in the background was a nice moment.

Following the tea plantation we took a detour to the highest point and a watchtower to see for miles around. Unfortunately the haze made that impossible, so to our next point which was a mini jungle trek in what is know as The Mossy Forest, for no other reason that the forest is covered in moss. Our guide and the gentleman who sold us this half day tour said this was the forest which was copied for Avatar. Ok, I guess I can see that, but I think its a stretch. Still the walk was enjoyable and very cooling. The moss apparently can be an anti-septic if you cut yourself. Also interesting was the fact we were walking the entire time in the trees. The floor was actually build of of roots, moss and leaves etc built over millions of years and still growing. The guide, whos name is shortened as Gavin, had a definite passion for the forest and was very knowledgeable. His passion couldn't help rubbing off on us. Just looking at the age of these places, and witnessing the glacial changes makes me want to place any child that has been taught creationism out here.

We then went to a butterfly farm and I couldn't give a shit really as I hate butterflies. They are insects, just with poncy wings. Sarah who jumps 8 feet in the air at the slightest bug or spider will chase a pretty coloured butterfly around and coax it onto her finger. The Butterfly Farm was also a zoo which branched off from butterflies to snakes, rhino beetles, rabbits, chickens and scorpions, or anything living we can catch put it into a cheap metal or glass cage and charge MYR 5 to see it. The most pathetic part was a 'museum' which was a paper mac he mound with fake beetles and snakes and of course butterflies. A model of The Petronas Towers, in case you forgot you were in Malaysia. A model of a Harley Davidson motorbike and a model face of a native american. I'm not sure why the latter two were there or symbolising.

Picking our own strawberries, sort of.

Next stop, pick some strawberries ourselves at the Strawberry Farm. It works like this, you pay the lady MYR 30 or £6 or the cost of a meal with desert she gives you a punnet to pick 500g of strawberries. Only you walk off to pick them and you aren't really left to pick them. Some 'farmer' tells you where to go and which ones. My mother grew strawberries in our garden and I like them less than really red as they still have a bit of sourness. However, the 'farmer' left me no margin for personal taste and pointed us to every strawberry, telling us which to pick and how to. On leaving and paying up I noticed a ready packed punnet of strawberries for MYR 8. Almost 4 times to price and you have to pick them yourselves. The strawberries are ok, but I prefer the English ones which grew in the garden to these irrigated and grown from coconut husk or something. Its not more organic, what I saw was a factory. What I ate when I was young was little candy from the bottom of our garden. Before heading back we took a quick stop at a Chinese Buddhist temple at the top of the hill. Very nice and pleasant and smelling of incense sticks. We didn't stay long.

We are here in the Cameron Highlands for two more nights. This has be for rest and recuperation for Sarah and I hope it has helped her. Therefore, we haven't strained ourselves much. We leave early on the 26th for a bit of an adventure. We are part driving and part taking a boat into the jungle of Taman Negara. We will be in the jungle for two days then we return for Sarah's doctors appointment back in KL.

81 Days - Cameron Highlands

The Cameron Highlands

After I left you on the 16th June I went to visit Sarah for the afternoon and evening. Sitting and watching the TV and every hour the nurse would turn up to give the eye-drops. I always tried to exit before nightfall. This was largely as the walk back to Asia Jaya LTR station means a walk under a roadway which during the day was full of lively restaurants, but a muggers paradise when those restaurants were closed. As normal I made my way back and had dinner alone in Chinatown. Each night varying the restaurant while the food seemed uniform. I ordered a beef curry noodle soup which was filling and satisfying in taste. I retired back to my room, played on the computer and read for a bit then drifted off to sleep. I woke up at 3:30am with the most crippling stomach pains. I couldn't ignore it and ran to the bathroom and threw up the curry soup, and what was left went out the other end. This was followed by frequent return visits to the toilet throughout the night and into the morning. Absolutely bloody marvellous. I'd managed to dodge food poisoning or tummy bugs for so long but get it now when I can't spend a day in bed as I had to visit Sarah. I got rid of as much as I could, and was pleased to see some yellow bile come up as that usually is the poison causing the pain. Still at 10am I left in the smoggy KL heat to the station to make the journey to Sarah's hospital. I was conscious that if I looked ill and sweating they may not let me into the hospital so I tried to keep my pain together and look normal. Although while walking up the hill approaching the hospital I doubled over in pain a couple of times, as my tummy twitched trying to get rid of whatever was pissing it off.


I stayed with Sarah until after lunch. I couldn't stay much longer, so made my way back. Besides a good proportion of my time was spent hugging the toilet in her hospital room. I said I'd be back the next day but maybe a little later. That night I was out of the room and into a shared dorm of 6 bunks. Once inside it was gloriously cool. My bunk was a top one in the corner. I sorted out my stuff and jumped on top. Sharing my dorm was a German traveller who had also fallen victim to something hastily and unhygienic cooked in Chinatown and was also suffering. I fell asleep at 3pm I think and woke in a bit of a sweat about 9pm. My pain spasms in my stomach were less frequent and severe. I restricted myself to water and nothing else to fight the dehydration of the diarrhoea. The next morning I was much better but not wanting to eat, which was just as well. I visited Sarah for the whole day. She was getting much better. The eye was clearing up and she was eventually discharged around noon on 20th June. She came back to the hostel and found a bed in our mixed dorm. Not a great place to recuperate. That said it was cool. The dorm had no windows which can be annoying in some ways but easy to find sleep when you need it and not when the sun dictates.

Dancing Fountains, Petronas Towers

We at last got to see more of KL than chinatown and the hospital. We made our way to the Petronas Towers and due to my tummy pains I was not eating anything risky. Therefore a mall of Subway's and other stodge was exactly the food I, not so much desired, but could trust to stay down and not hurt me further.  Our last day in KL, the 21st we returned to the KLCC Mall where the Petronas Towers are and decided to have a nice meal for once. Ignoring how out of place I felt as this Irish Bar Restaurant is surely the place of ex-pat businessmen, and not for the flip-flop bearded brigade, we had a great meal. A very nice pint of guinness, fish and chips and bread and butter pudding to finish. The bill when it came looked extravagant in the extreme in MYR, but actually only £35. I think we deserved a date night. We finished by watching the dancing fountains in the park directly outside the mall and that nicely ended our last night in KL.

Friday 22nd June Sarah had a morning appointment with the Dr. We obviously wanted to have some facts to back up what we both thought was rapid improvement. Also we wanted permission to travel up into the Cameron Highlands north of KL.  We were happy on both counts on seeing the doctor. He confirmed the progress of Sarah's eye. He also mentioned the unlikelihood of it returning. He booked Sarah in for another appointment the following Friday leaving us a week to leave the city. Further to this, we both felt The Cameron Highlands would be good for Sarah or at least better than smoggy KL where dust seemed everywhere and even irritated my ulcer free eyes, let alone Sarah's.

The Cameron Highlands are where the tea plantations are in northern Malaysia. High in the hills the air is obviously much purer than KL. Also the temperature is perfect and a reprieve from the heat we have experienced almost non-stop since Dubai on 10th May.  After leaving the doctors we retrieved our bags from the hostel and caught the 2pm train to Ipoh from KL Sentral. The train was first class, with films and waitress service and the price was £7 each for the 2.5 hour journey. Pulling into Ipoh we had a short walk to the bus station but a 1.5 hour wait for the next bus to Tanah Rata, the main town of the highlands. Already we could see that most the faces were of Indian origin and less oriental. The bus took about 3 hours to reach Tanah Rata climbing steadily through the green mountains, with layered grey hills in the background. Darkness fell as we arrived and a gentleman met us at the bus station offering his services of a ride to a hostel. After 3 stops where we weren't interested we found Twin Pines Guesthouse where we are now. The temperature I was promised was delivered. Last night with crisp sheets and the temperature much lower I had my first complete sleep in a long time, without once leaving one leg out of the covers. Also the first thing I hankered for and really hit a spot, a cold beer? No not a cold beer actually, a nice cup of tea with milk. I haven't had a cuppa in a long time and it was orgasmic.

Malaysiashire

Today we lay in until 10 I think. On rising I showered but also I got rid of my beard. After a month with a beard I feel clean but look in the mirror and see a weird baby-face. Also I actually shaved, not just clippered or trimmed. Yes I had my first razor shave
this year. We tried a walk towards a tea plantation but Sarah being tired and fed up with the large portion of walking alongside the road wanted to return so we did. On the way back we had tea and scones. What's happened to me? Since when have I been so British that I got so excited about tea and scones? I even looked disappointed when the cream on offer was squirty. Absolute barbarians, although was I really expecting Roddha's Cornish Clotted Cream to travel this distance to me? Still the tea in a mug with milk was perfect. Looking out from the cafe the houses, some of which built in mock-tudor architecture overlooking a perfectly cut lawn. The weather fresh, I was back in Southern England for a moment. We can sneer at Empire and colonialism, or harp on about the atrocities, inhumanities, slavery and genocides it caused. Yet if the British Empire succeeded in planting the whole world with teas, perfect lawns and mock-tudor houses, would that have been such a bad thing?

74 Days - Kuala Lumpur

I'd like to be typing now about the magnificence of The Petronas Towers, bedlam of Chinatown, or the Batu Caves, however our travels have taken a turn for the worse.

On the morning of June 13th Sarah's left eye was really painful, I think it was irritating her a bit before that but that morning and our last day in Hong Kong it became inflamed. We wondered what it could be and tried to google a few things. Sarah thought it could be conjunctivitus, only I've had that before and its more gooey than painful. At this stage it looked like a sty, which we all know can be painful, still it seemed more painful than that. During the day Sarah was feeling very down and had a moment where she thought she wasn't up to travel as it has been illness after illness, but she recovered her spirits. Either her pain reduced slightly or she got used to it, we took the 9:05pm flight from Hong Kong to Kuala Lumpur. We arrived at 1am the next morning. The taxi driver was useless and had no idea where he was going, driving us into KL then out again. I became irate and said "can you tell us, do you know where Pesar Seni is, or Chinatown or Jalan Petaling". Having visited this part of KL before I think I gave him more than many tourists would give him. He kept repeating "chinatown, no problem". Then missed several turns which said Kuala Lumpur. Irate that a 1hour taxi ride had now taken 2 hours I shouted "look its in central KL look for Petronas Towers, or give me the fucking taxi and I'll drive". He replied "chinatown no problem". We arrived at 4am, very tired and slept straight through to 11am.

At breakfast Sarah's eye was more painful, and she was breaking into tears. At some point at breakfast she said "I can't see". I looked at her eyeball and a white goo was there, or at least that's what it looked like. Still blinking wouldn't shift it. We needed medical help but the chap at reception was little use, directing us to a road where there are many clinics, but we saw one. Once inside it seemed to have restaurants and an ear clinic. The lady gave us directions of where to walk, but Sarahs eye was in terrible pain. With that I approached a taxi who gave us our first diagnosis. "what hospital do you want?" "its her eye", "I'll take you to the eye hospital, only 10 Ringgit (less than £2) on the meter". We got the one nice taxi driver in KL. Pointing as he approached the eye hospital he even showed us our proximity to the LTR to catch a direct train back to Pesar Seni.

Entering the hospital, Sarah was diagnosed at reception as having a corneal ulcer caused by contact lenses. She was off to see the doctor in minutes and left me to do the paperwork. Now when you think of hospitals abroad you think of scenes from foreign civil wars with mattresses on the floor and blood being swept everywhere, and helpless old men missing limbs and swatting flies. Tun Hussein National Eye Hospital would put the NHS to shame and I'll wager a few American hospitals too. Efficient and fast to see the doctor and not incredibly expensive. Sarah left with eye drops and medication and an appointment for Saturday 16th at 10am. However, Friday morning, while the pain subsided quite a bit her sight was almost totally gone. We returned. This time the doctor called me in and advised that she should be admitted for possibly two nights if the ulcer is bacterial or 2 weeks if it's fungal. Malaysia is an Islamic country and I'm almost guessing he was asking my permission to hold her. Anyway we agreed, Sarah came back on the train to the hostel with me, we grabbed her bag and returned to the hospital.

They checked her in and took a deposit off us for MYR 1500 or £305 or $458. Then took her to her room. The room is 80s in style but clean and adequate, and had a TV which is amazing to anyone who has experienced NHS hospitals. The estimated cost of this will be $610 or £407. The idea of putting a price for medical help is something a little abhorent to this Brit who has grown up alongside an NHS, but I believe its something I will have to get used to in America. I wasn't requested to join Sarah on the next bit which was to get and injection into her eyeball. I'm not sure I could have looked and been any support there at all. A husband must be strong not vomiting and fainting on the floor. I stayed with Sarah until 8pm I think and returned alone to the hostel. Having a dinner on my own in chinatown, and wandering back alone made me a little tearful, well almost. Then back at the hostel I logged on and phoned to sort out the medical insurance. Its all quite worrying but doing something practical to help keeps me occupied and makes me feel less helpless. I feel tremendous guilt that we didn't get help in Hong Kong, but we were flying that day so what would we have done? I feel guilt about not taking Sarah's pain so seriously straight away, but we both thought it was a sty. There are a lot of 'coulda, shoulda, woulda's' and they are useless thoughts. The actual outcome is she is getting better according to the doctor. We have to stay here in KL for a couple of weeks, either Sarah as an outpatient or continuing as admitted. Also it looks like returning home won't be necessary and if Sarah wants to keep travelling I'll support that as eagerly as if she wants to return home, However, returning to the USA with a pre-existing condition and no insurance would be a bankruptcy waiting to happen, so money is a consideration.

I've had to return to the hostel to extend my stay, but I'm going back to see Sarah in a minute. After tonight I'm moving to a 6 bed dorm to save money. I will miss my own room like I have now to lock myself away and brood when I'm not visiting the hospital, but I know this isn't healthy. Sarah wants me to sight see and take photos, but it doesn't feel right when she is in nice but sterile hospital. 

Days 70. And that was Hong Kong

The 8th of June and day 66 we once again spent the day killing time in Bangkok, as we our transfer to the airport wasn't until 11pm. We had a day at Dusit Zoo in Bangkok which took us up until 6pm I think, then we read and drank fruit smoothies etc. When it got time to wait for the transfer to pick us up, we were there at 10:45. Come 11:30pm we were concerned it hadn't turned up, although this is Thailand and expecting a coach to pick you up on time is a likely as a bacon sandwich in a mosque. Anyway Sarah nipped back to where we booked the transfer, and the girl who took the booking was asleep. Sarah woke her and after some calling around, it seemed the minivan didn't see us. This was bollocks as we were the only ones at the guesthouse with rucksacks and with that 'waiting for a ride' look about us. The lady tried to appease us with booking us a taxi, but advised Sarah we'd have to pay B50 for the toll roads. Sarah rightly pissed off said we weren't paying anymore, it was her or their cock-up. When I met her the girl was very frantic and frustrated at being let down. My concern was she'd say here is your B200 back and we'd have to pay B400 to get to the airport. With this in mind I agreed and Sarah reluctantly too that B50 which is about £1 is a quick way out of the mess. The girl handed over B350 to the taxi driver and I guess to her being down by B100 was a huge loss, and it may not have been her fault either. However, her angry manner where I found myself trying to calm her when it should have been the other way, did not make her endearing. I think my lesson here is if at all possible get your guesthouse to book the transfers not save a few pennies by going to a cheapy desk next to a 7 Eleven. Still we all live and learn and B250 or £5 for a 40km taxi journey is a very good deal.

My strong belief in leaving margin for error with time (which is free in travel world) proved itself as we were very early for the flight. Arriving at just before 1am on 9th June, our flight to Hong Kong wasn't until 6:30am so we had to find somewhere to sleep at the airport. I opted at first for the cold floor of Bangkok airport. Cold because they crank up the AC big time there. That didn't work, but resting against the rucksack and on the metal seats bagged me an hour of sleep. We checked in about 3:30am and were through security and onto the very comfy seats for a couple more hours until the gate was ready. I couldn't get back to sleep so spent the time reading and playing Solitaire on the iphone. I slept  very well on the flight, to be awoken with the meal I ordered back in the UK. Here is another travel tip regards to Airasia; don't bother with the food. If booking in the UK the £1.99 meal choice looks excellent value, but when you've been in Asia and you see what £2 can buy you, the food inflight is disgusting.

Days 67 to 70 Hong Kong

I'm going to liken Hong Kong to the band Bloc Party. Let me explain this. At V2006 Festival, I was looking forward to Radiohead playing, I knew Radiohead would be great, because they were Radiohead. Incidentally Bloc Party played that afternoon and I'd never really heard them before apart from a few songs and they blew me away. Ironically Radiohead decided that this festival they would try out new stuff on the audience and were not as good as they have been in the past. The point was I wan't expecting Bloc Party and we weren't really expecting Hong Kong. We booked the tickets as this was the place we intended to stop to get our Chinese Visas. Of course with the rejection of the Chinese Visas we still had a flight to Hong Kong we had to use, but we were hesitant of staying in a place which is notoriously not cheap for the backpacker. For example our cost of accommodation here in a dorm in a hostel is the equivalent of a 3star hotel in Bangkok with a swimming pool. The only reason we stayed 4 nights is the flights back were much cheaper if we held off for a couple of days. Now on our last but one day, it seems what a gem of a place we would miss if we rushed this in 2 days. The place is truly amazing. Let me run through the highlights.

Chungking Mansions, Nathan Road

The shopping centre which held our guesthouse is little Delhi. If you want bags, electronic goods, SIM cards and excellent curry, this is the place. Our hostel, Paris Guesthouse is grotty but clean. The shower is dubiously rigged up direct to the boiler, but it gave me the best shower I had in ages. The room is cool and airy and gives you a haven from the intense Hong Kong humidity. Free water, free and good WIFI. Its everything you want but it looks like crap. I had my first really good nights sleep since I've been in Asia in this hostel. Another plus, the laundry is free, only the price of a good review in Hostelworld, which I have to work out how to do.

Symphony of Lights

Symphony of lights

Every night at 8pm go to Victoria Harbour on Kowloon, and look across at Hong Kong Island and lame music is played slightly out of sync with the skyscrapers performing a light display. This is free and an absolute must for the first night.

The Star Ferry.

The chugging green passenger ships which too and fro between Kowloon and Hong Kong Island make an iconic and perfect budget travel option. Only HK$2 or 17p for the journey. 

The Star Ferry

The Peak Tram

On Hong Kong Island look for The Bank of China and HSBC Bank then look for signs to Peak Tram. The cost of the return is HK$65 but it takes you to the peak of Hong Kong Island for the iconic view. Eating up there will mean you will certainly need to take another trip to the ATM. Also Hong Kong being a Peninsular and a tropical one, means cloudy days are the norm, so getting a clear day to do the trip to the Peak may not come straight away. Just go up and wait for a break in the clouds, which always comes. 

The Walled City of Kowloon.

The Walled City of Kowloon is a beautiful park, with Chinese Temples, ornate Gardens and cute little bridges over goldfish infested streams. The Walled City was up until the 1990s mass of ungovernable slums with highrises against narrow streets which let little light in. One of the agreements between the British and Chinese governments in 1987, in the 10 year run up to handing Hong Kong back, was to get rid of these slums which saw children play next to heroin dealers, and improve the area. The park now sits in between some high-rise apartments, but the space given has made the place safe for tourists to walk.

Inside Walled City now

Walled City of Kowloon before 90s (alleyways on right)

Hong Kong in General.

Hong Kong is loud and annoying. You can't walk five paces without being offered a suit, fake Rolex or a massage. Walk down one street and you are feeling out of place as you are surrounded by Cartier, Gucci, Tiffany. Then you turn a corner and shops smelling unpleasantly of Chinese herbal medicines. Even on Hong Kong Island where the hawkers of fake Rolex and suits are not allowed, you see the suited white businessmen walk past an elderly Chinaman playing a flute. I think for me a travel moment happened. A travel moment is something that stays with you always and cannot be recorded by video or camera, it just stays in your mind. For me it was sat eating Singapore Noodles on some steps on Victoria Harbour looking at the Hong Kong Island cityline across the water. The same noodles we saw cooked before us in a huge wok of oil and fire only moments earlier. I've had many Chinese takeaways in my time but this was by far the best yet. 

Alongside this dynamism and tradition is the underlying and very strong presence that this was once a British colony. The streets have names like Chater, Connaught, Nathan and South Chatham. The vehicle plates are British and they drive on the same side of the road as us, and not as the rest of mainland China. I look at it and think Britain can do some great things really, just not on its own island.

You see in Hong Kong a place that is amazing in although being such a small geographical place, it still had the power to keep hold of democracy, freedom and facebook. Some of those who believe in the power of the UK would say, Britain demanded it in 1997 as part of the handover deal, but I think its the pure wealth generated in the small island territory that dictated its future. China is more money oriented than ideology when it comes to socialism, and to that end when Hong Kong ceases to be an autonamous region in 2047, I still think China will just let Hong Kong continue to do what it does best. As Deng Xiaopeng (successor to Mao) said "I don't care if the cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice". 

Chris' travel book club. - June 2012

One thing travel has done more than anything is force me from boredom of long train or coach journeys into an avid reader. Here are some of my recommendations.

Chronicles, Stephen Fry

To any Brit he needs no introduction. To Americans he was for a long time the comedy partner and university friend of Hugh Laurie of House fame and Emma Thompson 90s occassional fame. An honest account of 8 years of his life from prison to Cambridge to getting into television. More than a biography he is ruthlessly honest about himself. How he suffers from depression, but looks at the fortunes of his life and feels guilt for being depressed.

The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini

Such a moving story. The film was very close to the book, so if you've seen the film, the main addition is more detail is put on the main character Amirs friend Hassan meeting his demise at the hands of the Taliban. Also in getting Hassans boy back to America from Pakistan is a little harder. If you've not seen the film, the story of a man trying to make up for his childhood transgressions in a heroic way is a near tear jerker. I was on the train from Genoa to Pisa in Italy, and I fought back the tears if only as a family were opposite me, when Hassans letter reaches Amir "when flowers grow in Kabul and the skies filled with kites". I will read it again soon.

Call of the Wild, Jack London

The story of Buck the dog from a domestic in California to the vicious competitive world of an Alaskan Husky pulling sledges. Seeing Buck lose all his love for men, but gain it towards the end after an act of amazing kindness. Then to see his new found love and loyalty for that owner be tested when he meets a wolf, befriends his and is tempted by the call of the wild.

1984, George Orwell

Up until 1984 we wondered how prophetic it was, and it really was. He told of the power struggle of Oceania (USA and Britain) Eurasia (Soviet Union) Eastasia (China), which seemed reminiscent of the cold war. Some will say his prophecy fell short of recognising the fall of communism, and most totalitarian regimes (only North Korea left), and the new world order is one of fear of a bunch of radicals let loose with a plane ticket and a rucksack. Then again, at the end when Winston "loved big brother" I see the propaganda we have today. I read this as a politics student, because well um, I was a politics student so it was the law to.  However I enjoyed it all the more now.

Welcome to Hell, Colin Martin.

Now you come to Bangkok and you scour the book stalls for something to read and on every shelf there is something about the legendary Bangkok Hilton. This of course means the harsh prison in Bangkok not the lovely white building that overlooks the Chao Phraya River. Usually its a drug dealer who was short of money and thought he'd slip through the net at the airport. Instead they end in this harsh prison where they sleep on a hard floor, eat dirty rice, watch men wank and a few rapes and beatings thrown in, because that's what happens in prison. Mainly the reason why citizens try not to break the law too often. This guy Colin Martin suffered all the above, but mainly because he was the worlds greatest imbecile.

His Bangkok story starts with a scam when he pays a company $100,000 and some to employ him and his team of welders. Here I would walk away, but he didn't he; came up with the money. The money went and the would be employers stopped answering their phones. The Thai police were not as helpful as he would have liked, and instead of admitting he fucked up royally and trade his way out of the situation, he spent 3 years in Bangkok chasing down the men concerned, oh and getting married and fathering a child. He finds one of the conmen, and punches him, and manages to reclaim some of the money, but it wasn't all of it, so he went after the main guy, finds him, kidnaps him and ends up in tussle with his bodyguard. His version of the events concerning the tussle, which end in the death of the bodyguard and his charge for murder, seem very confused and lead you to believe he did it good an proper m'lud.

His slow acceptance that Thailand has a seperate legal system to England and Wales (not least of all as they stubbornly conduct their courts in the language of Thai) leads him to much frustration. Also his slow acceptance at prison life. From his first day announcing how appalled he was that his fellow inmates pick their noses, gives the reader concern that he is in for a rough ride. He complains about the beatings himself, yet beats up an English inmate for having a cheaky bit of solo fun. Not a likable character and also not a learner from mistakes. Despite not trusting Thais and admitting his Thai wife only saw him as having money, he had no qualms about handing over to her $40000 his Irish family scraped together for his bail. He never saw bail nor the money again.

All appeals fail, even up to Thai Supreme court, yet he only served 8 years for a murder, which makes him a lucky man in some ways. In all a great book as you squirm with embarrasment and feel like shouting at the book when you see the oaf walking blindly into yet another stupid mistake. You also take the view, that if you were a Thai policeman dealing with this cock, you'd hit him with a telephone directory too.

A Walk in the Woods, Bill Bryson

Such a funny American writer, so dry and sarcastic in his humour. And why not? He spent his first 20 years in writing and journalism in the UK. His book Notes from a Big Country detail his return to the USA after 2 decades in the UK and I think this book about a walk along the Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine, a journey of 2000 miles seems an personal reconciliation with America. He does it with gusto and his journey companion, Katz a recovering alcoholic with an food obsession leads for an almost enemy to buddy story like the film Planes Trains and Automobiles. Other characters in the book like advice monkey Mary Ellen who vocally knows all but really knows nothing is laugh out loud.

Dotted between the journey and the characters are occasional jaunts into the science and evolution of the AT and the wildlife. His stats and examples make interesting reading. However, like an attentive teacher who knows when my attention is wandering, Bryson pulls you back on the journey before the science bits get boring.

His walk, which I shouldn't say if he completes or not is an impressive feat. It paints a perfect picture of the size of America, and the richness of it. It also makes you debate the aspects of using the countryside for leisure, and the ethics behind it. Sometimes when it seemed hill billy communities (read poverty) and farms were moved off to 'protect the countryside' you wonder how important a walk in the wild is when social cleansing is factored in. I read in literally two afternoons as it was so hard to put down.

Days 59 to 65. Koh Phi Phi to Bangkok

Day 59 or Friday 1st June was our last full day on the island which we spent doing very little as per usual. However, come the evening we realised that during our full stay on KPP we had yet to check out the Viewpoint of the island, or what I think is the highest ground. We left it quite late for a stroll, leaving our room at about 5:40pm, although it was part of our intention to see the sunset. The walk was very strenuous as we took our first left up a clearly defined road. As with many hills the summit is blocked from view and you gaze at the tree line and think 'it couldn't be much higher' only to turn a corner and effectively see the finish line moved back a mile. Still on we walked and when we turned onto a dirt track, the walk improved for me. It was here that many of the locals lived. The houses were wooden shacks but the location priceless. However, the weather and nightfall was conspiring against us and conscious that sundown was between 6:30 and 7pm we wondered how far we had to go and asked some walkers who looked like they were returning. 'About 20 minutes' they advised. I looked at my watch and calculated this would mean a walk through the vague jungle in the dark and no lighting looked available and we almost abandoned. We came to a covered tent come house and a western gentleman came out and said we could take a look at the view. He obviously noticed my consideration as to whether we were trespassing or not. When we finished he said "you aren't going to the viewpoint? Its only 1 or 2 minutes that way". Well that's different and taking a left off the trail and climbing some easy rocks there it was, the view of the Western part of KPP-Don and Leh. The island shaped like and 'H' with the two beachs pinched into the middle. We were by no means alone, many others had found a place to sit and just look out and wait for sun down. Also we noticed a comfortable path that seemed to take us down to the town and felt our safe exit was assured. But the clouds loomed and before the sun set we descended back to the town. Occasionally gazing skyward cautiously at possible falling coconuts.

Day 60 and 61 we spent travelling back to Bangkok. The boat left the pier at 1:30pm promptly with a bus taking us to a place where we pick up the coach. About 7:45pm we were probably on our way to make the 1200km journey back to Bangkok. The coach was as comfy as a coach could be knowing it would also be our bed for the night. We stopped about midnight at a service station of sorts. Sarah needed the loo and I just thought I needed to stretch, but not really. My mossie bitten legs had just stopped stinging and I didn't want a rematch. For some reason insects don't like AC as much as I do so I was eager to get back on the coach. Leaving about 1am, I think I managed to get sleep somewhere after 2am to wake up to the dawn and a large city which could only be Bangkok. Tired and cranky we waited for our backpacks to be ceremoniously thrown onto the road, and avoiding the traffic and taxi drivers hoping for travellers wet behind the ears as to Bangkok we walked to a place I remember seeing which had AC for only B400 a night. We found it and booked in and there we have remained.

Day 62 or Monday 4th of June we had a plan and that plan was to wake at 6ish and make our way to the Chinese Embassy to pick up our visas. There was suprisingly little congestion for a Monday, even if it was a 8am. This became obvious as when we arrived at the Embassy after some flawed directions, we found it was closed. It was a Thai National Holiday of course. This meant not only having to return the next day, but also a sign on the door saying 'Basic Requirement Plane Ticket and Hotel Reservation'. In light of this we booked a cheap hotel in Shanghai. We weren't about to book a return ticket, but according to The Chinese Embassy failing an exit plane ticket, a bank statement showing good funds is enough. Now 2 months into our travel and with a healthy return fund in the USA we printed out bank statements which would be 3 times the annual salary of a chinaman. We were ready as we thought we would be, or as ready as the Embassy website told us to be.

Day 63 we made the trip back to the Embassy and arrived 15mins before the 9am opening time. The place was already heaving. The same security lady ushered us forward, gave us forms and sat on the floor we scribbled out the forms. Then joining the queue we were eventually allowed onto the visa section on the 2nd floor, this would have been about 9:20am. We took a number, glued our photos onto the sheet then took a long queue to see a lady at a desk who's job was to check we'd filled out our forms correctly. I thought this was good as we are employing a lawyer several thousand dollars to check our US Immigration forms are correct, so I saw this as a good service. We got to sit infront of her about 10:15am. I was not hopeful as it seemed every Brit or American that came before had something wrong which they had to sort out and we were no exception. Our hotel reservation did not have our name on. We needed photocopies of passports. Luckily, well not luckily more out a sense of business accumen there happened to be photocopy and internet cafes in the vicinity. One we found seemed to have a gentleman in a queue typing up a letter of introduction for himself on a word document. Anyway satisfied we had all the documents we returned to the queue. Our number came up eventually and we found ourself staring at young party bureaucracy. She flicked through all the documents thrown together, not paying attention to many details. She grabbed our passports and documents and walked into the back room, to return asking "why you not apply in your home country?" The answer obviously being that we were travelling and have not been home in months. She wandered off again to the backroom, but I knew what the answer was going to be VISA DENIED. We had resigned ourselves to this during the long wait and decided if this happens we will go to Bali. We left the Embassy a full 3 hours after arriving. We'd rushed around getting the documentation they wanted and being denied wasted two early mornings. On the plus side, we found the book store which sold us the Chinese guidebook and negotiated a part exchange on two guidebooks. Malaysia and Bali. We booked the ticket from Hong Kong to Kuala Lumpur for the 14th June. The contingency plan is quite good, and I'm rather warming to spending some weeks in the Cameron Highlands of Malaysia with it's tea and hill stations.

Day 64 and 65 were non days as regards seeing things. We sort of planned to see the monkey temple but that never happened. Seeing how much we spend on a daily basis has left us cutting back our food to two meals a day, and ideally at street vendors where we can both be well fed for £2. Also I've dropped the alcohol completely for a while. Mainly due to the expense. The art is to use the fact we don't have to work to break the habit we have of early rising. Now we leave the room at about 11:30am, where our breakfast doubles as our lunch. Our daily food is about £7 each now which I knew was possible when I originally budgeted for this. The Chinese Visa rejection and currently reading that obtaining an Indian Visa in Kuala Lumpur is no longer possible has left us feeling a bit low. Immediately we are reminded that travelling the world without the help of Thomas Cook is not easy. It's not easy as it seems backpackers are admitted into countries, but mainly as a second best. They grudgingly accept us, all the while keeping one expectant eye on those who fill up the Sheratons and Hiltons. It seems in China they plain don't need us or want us. This can be discouraging as we find ourselves following the 'Banana Pancake' road, not as we don't want more, just that more is often legally out of bounds.  That said I'm pulled back to reality by my Facebook status update on Chinese Visa Denied. In the corresponding comments I said "I think we are off to Bali now". A friend responded "oh poor you, off to Bali!". She had a point.