Colourful Kuching: Malaysia

Accommodation: My Sarawak Travel Cafe Guesthouse was a bit of a life-saver during Chinese New Year, when Kuching was officially a ghost town. The dorms were clean and comfortable for an affordable price, the internet however was not. There was free brekkie consisting of bread, jam and hot drinks which was adequate; but information services were lacking. Wouldn't suggest it for couples, as the noise was unbelievable, and walls were incredibly thin. It was about 16 MYR (£4) for the dorm and a hefty 50 MYR (£12) for a double room. The dorm was worth the price, the double is the best you can get for the price. Berambih Lodge two doors down was quiter and comfortable, but again wasn't much for the same price. The laundry services were quite useful and the 'lobby' decor was really relaxed. Better for couples I think.

Places to See: Well, at first off I can say what NOT to recommend and that is the 'Women's Museum,' which might as well should have been called 'All the Minister's Wives' gallery. It had nothing of the splendour of Hanoi's Women's Museum that's for sure. But on the upside, there are plenty of relaxing spots to explore. Taking a local boat down Kuching's main river, the Sungai Sarawak is definitely worth the sunset view. There are also wonderful weekend markets on the southern edge of Jalan Satok, which provides a myriad of fresh, appetising food. There are also plenty of museums on offer, if you have the time to leisurely stroll. Kuching having an ethnically diverse population, the Sarawak Museum hosts a collection of cultural artefacts for the region's indigenous people. Similarly there are art and textiles museums all around. It generally is a lazy town, to enjoy a little bit of the finer things in life aka the marvellous food. But the main place to visit from Kuching is Bako National Park by far, which can be arranged at the Tourist Office in Kuching- remember to call in before to book accommodation.

Getting to and from Kuching: Okay, Kuching does not have many options in actually visiting the city, taking a plane from KL is the only choice for earlybird price of 80 MYR (AirAsia) otherwise it does double in price. Now depending if you want to head up to the province of Sabah, to visit Kota Kinabalu first or last, you can get a bus to and from with stop-off cities on the way. The express bus station on Jalan Penrissen, heads for longer distances, even to the Indonesian side of Borneo (Pontianak is the city) for 50 MYR, 9 hours though I would not recommend it at all- you will see why a few posts later. Bus 6 to Bako National Park leaves every hour from the open-air market.

Transport: There are taxis around, but if you have your sea legs at hand, then Kuching can be quite walkable. It isn't really designed for tourists, but there are taxis around that cost between 6 MYR to 10 MYR into town. From the airport, the taxi was 17 MYR. If you can figure out the bus system, then it is really cheap to get around. Again, boats are a great way to get around, for 15 MYR.

Arriving into Kuching in officially monsoon weather wasn't exactly the greatest welcome expected. And more so that it was Chinese New Year and so the town was deathly silent. Seeing the My Sarawak Travel Cafe, was like seeing water after weeks of dehydration. But seeing my dear friend from my travels in Cambodia was like seeing a fountain after walking through a desert. As a local Kuchinger, we were whisked away to Chinese New Year galore, aka meeting the extended family and being fed until we were obese. Just amazingly hospitable people, and the best way of experiencing a true New Year.

And after we were sufficiently stuffed, returning home (aka le dorm) to feel the full impact of the bloat was in order. But the night time was a whole other affair. With the expert in hand, the first monument we hailed was Kuching's slightly weird fascination with Cats. Yes, that's right- Cats. Probably because Kuching actually means 'Cat' and so all around town are rather peculiar giant statues of the feline creatures. (By the way there even is a Cat Museum which is just plain weird.) We were then reared into the first location of the night aka Chinese classy kareoke time. After a sing-song of Robbie Williams, Abba and Louis Armstrong later, we ended up in the Malaysian brassy kareoke next door.

It was like landing in the twilight zone only a few metres away from the origin of kareoke. Dancing go-go girls looking incredibly bored as they winded their hips in practically nothing but a handkerchief. All I kept thinking, my fem friends are going to kill me, as I attempted to flee for my life. Eventually the bored dancers jumped off stage, and it was time for us to make history and sing Bon Jovi in front of a bunch of gangster Malaysian people. Okay, so the singing was abysmal and the stares were frightening, especially as a man with sunglasses (it was dark, and night time) began to belt out 'Angels' by Robbie Williams a lot better than we did. It was definitely time to move especially as the police decided to swarm inside on some sort of raid.

And then the end of the night entailed clubbing to horrifically cheesy music, from 20 years ago and it was at that time I decided to bow out and sit with the older folk with a beer in hand. Problem was that by the time we reached our abode, the doors were locked tight. And with no one with an accessible mobile phone, chucking rocks and banging on the door became conventional for the next 20 minutes. Eventually, the poor, sleepy-eyed owners opened the door, and being especially English, we apologised profusely.

My friends headed off to Bako National Park in advance, whilst I wallowed in my headache and feeling generally exhausted- so this became my Sabbath day. Strolling around town was quite pleasant, except everything was still closed and trying find sustenance was impossible. Eventually, after being confronted by one of the giant Cat monuments, there resided a place to eat- phew. But today, we prepared to head to Bako National Park, aka the heart of the Borneo Jungle and I was excited beyond belief, despite weather warnings of being stranded on a boat to get there.

Skipping ahead after Bako, we returned to take that sunset boat ride downtown and take a glimpse into the Malaysian quarters which was like looking into a parallel world compared to the Chinese side. The houses were small and together, multi-coloured in a million hues and quite clearly economically less developed. But it was beautiful, and the people smiled and gestured kindly to us for visiting them.

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The Agoraphobic Backpacker

I hadn’t officially been alone outside  for years. I thought being confined in a bubble-wrapped existence within my haven of a bedroom for the rest of my life was a perfectly plausible way of living. Thinking that having a chaperone to and from college, as well as general contact with the outside world would be one I would be able to continue even into my twenties. Clearly, that did not happen.

This needed to be attacked with drastic measures, and not just baby steps in and out of the front door. This required an entirely different backdrop, language and culture in order to tackle this magnitude of isolation. I needed to tread quickly out of my comfort box before it swallowed me whole, and be in a place where open spaces and people would not be the only issue I had. So my first attempt to escape was in 2007, eight thousand miles away from drizzling London to the growing metropolis of Shanghai.

It was everything I had never imagined. Developed, boisterous businesses flourishing within neon lit skyscrapers were a distant thought. More so, were the people who I spent the majority of my time communicating through hand gestures and pigeon Mandarin. And though the results consisted of me being confined to my frozen apartment, feasting on Snicker bars; it was the first move towards breathing the polluted air of the real world. I was officially infected with the travel bug.

Although at every try of living abroad, I have continued the same pattern of being locked up within four walls, it is the experience of living a parallel life (as an agoraphobic) each time. Exactly what had changed then?

Well, for those of you out there surviving inside on a computer, similarly imprisoned within a container, the best and only way is to bite the bullet first time and make that leap across several oceans. Obviously, it’s not as simple as ‘just go outside’ especially when you are agoraphobic. It never is. However, wide open spaces tend to feel more daunting, when you are in the unfamiliar, no matter where you are.

Hence the most important way of not suffering that intense vulnerability or feeling nauseous and panicked is to PLAN. If you are bit like me, and unable to enjoy spontaneous walks to “view the vista” or “clear your head,” then the handiest tip is to map out every part of your trip, including charting any ‘impulsive walks.’ By using specific targets during your sightseeing and be able to plot your journey back to your safe haven, you focus away from the feeling of falling. It is one of those ‘pinch your nose and eat it moments,’ travelling thousands of miles away, but you realise that you don’t need to rely on a crutch for the rest of your life. Therefore, I have devised the Agoraphobic Travel Cheat Sheet:

 It can be filled out something like this:

And yes it may be a bit laborious, but you can thank it later when you feel a little lost. Bringing a sense of direction into your travel is always essential for those who require a safety net as large as your home. Or the option could be to try something closer to home, a site in your own city perhaps that you desperately want to see. Still, the main prerequisite for an agoraphobic traveller is that you feel comfortable and safe enough to want to make that change in your life. A support, aka a friend on the other line, or even a travelling companion can always be useful. 

There are always those occasions where you sense the world is clearly engulfing you, striking pure fear down through your spine, especially at the most inappropriate of times. At this point, sitting down in one spot, looking down and most significantly breathing is key to stopping a panic attack. Inhale everything that surrounds you, including the wonderful views that you get to experience in a lifetime. And just hold on to that thought.

Evidently, this is not a long-term solution, but it is one that can give a slight amount of confidence to be able to move past this gruelling phobia in the future. Agoraphobia usually stems from deep-rooted issues that trigger panic when facing open spaces and the outside world. And though it is not a ‘cure,’ it has been my treatment in enjoying the most beautiful moments in life. 

(I apologise to all those who I have cancelled seeing over the years!)

Candescent Kuala Lumpur: Malaysia

Accommodation: Okay so I wasn't exactly taking the 'cheap' option here, but if you are a travelling duo, then the price is usually affordable. Original backpacking place we tried out was relatively, not hugely cheap and pretty much everything fell apart there, including the beds and the doors. So we ran opposite to Hotel Nan Yeang, which was clean, central and pretty luxurious compared to the rest of the places we had stayed. Although the bathroom is shared, again there's a good shower. It is a Chinese run hotel, a bonus for me to practice my Mandarin. We payed about £5 each per night. Not as cheap as we hoped, but they have good information and airport taxi service.

Places to See: Apart from the obvious Petronas Towers that overlook the city and a hefty entrance fee (depends which point you see, ranges from 15MYR-38MYR), there is also the Menara Kuala Lumpur, which is equally gigantic and you get to see the Petronas Towers from there. The entrance fee is a little less, but not a huge difference and you need to get to a park and have the option of climbing up to the tower or get a free shuttle at the entrance. The time we went clashed with various festivals, also reflecting the multitude of ethnicities that live in Malaysia. Batu Caves is 13km north of the city and reached by bus 69 (1.20MYR) from Medan Pasar, Chinatown. The admission is free and the temple cave is guarded by the largest Murga (Hindu Shiva statue) in the world. Thean Hou temple was hosting its annual Chinese New Year festivities, a little weird and wacky with hundreds of Chinese people snapping photos, not so spiritual. There are plenty of little snack eateries lining the temple, alongside souvenir shops as well as shows to entertain for free. Catch a good dragon dance here for the festivities. There is a free bus that goes there from Hotel Midah in Kg Attap and KL Sentral during the new year. Otherwise just enjoy the plentiful food offered in Chinatown and Little India.

Getting to and from Kuala Lumpur: So I actually took a detour and had to go from Bangkok, as there are regular sleeper train services to Butterworth (a city on the border of Malaysia) for about £25, which you can book online in advance or buy at the station. You can continue further to Singapore as well. But the best thing is, you can get through the border in a matter of minutes. All they need to see is a valid passport. But make sure to take your bags and then you will be allocated back to some seats near the front carriage (as the train separates!) It is a long journey, around 27 hours so make sure you have enough snacks and entertainment. Once you get to Butterworth, take a bus that costs 30 MYR (follow the signs to the bus station) for about 5 hours to KL. The taxi to the main backpackers district (Jalan Sultan) is about 15MYR. They also have intercity railway named the KTM going to Singapore and Bangkok, and other cities in the Malaysian Peninsula.


Transport: KL's transport system is pretty well-established and convenient. Just buy coin tokens to get around on the metro, one of the longest automated driverless metro systems in the world, the Kelana Jaya Line (don't worry, it doesn't resemble The Simpson's Monorail). They also have a similar Oyster (Touch n Go) system if you are staying for a long period of time. Single fares are around 0.37 MYR.


A 27 hour journey of twiddling thumbs, charades and cards, as well as one border crossing equals ending up in a tiny town named Butterworth. The name was a bit suspect I must admit, and so we headed out of there within the hour, catching a bus to the main city Kuala Lumpur. It was another humdrum of a city, packed with skyscraper banks and sparkling shopping malls. Not really what I had in mind, and so we ended up in the other end of the spectrum and town aka Chinatown.

The red lights illuminated the rowdy, bustling crowd as well as the small snack stalls lining up Jalan Sultan. And the original backpacker's hostel just seemed too dilapidated after 32 hours of travelling. Hence a dash across the road, and voila, a slightly more upmarket room and an adequate, horizontal bed. It was luxury compared to being cramped up on a sleeper train. After an ample-sized meal, it was time for beddy bye byes.

The metro was a smooth engagement as we headed to KL's main sightseeing spot aka the Petronas Towers. And it was capitalism in phallic form, so was quite glad that it was filled that day. Instead we went to the secondary rising tower, the Menara Kuala Lumpur- says it all really. Except the only affinity it had with a menara was the perpendicular form. It paralled our own BT Tower in London, with its flash appearance and metropolitan atrium. For some bizarre reason, attached to the structure was a variety of animals ranging from horses to monkey in the park's zoo. Similarly, the views were considerably eerie, as storm clouds began to approach the horizon. An eclipse alien-like shape shrouded the city, with only flecks of sunlight beaming down rays across certain buildings. And we were amongst the clouds at that height.

Getting sufficiently soaked on the way back was customary having seen the tempest brewing from the tower. Monsoon season was well on track for Malaysian climes. We were fortunate with the skies the next day when we headed to the Batu Caves, 13 km north of KL. Eventually we stumbled over a cliff side with a mammoth sized golden Shiva statue guarding the entrance to this religious site. Hundreds of worshippers climbed the steep stairs surrounded by cunning little monkeys, attempting to steal anything detachable. Neighbouring the pesky but adorable monkeys as well as general crowd was filming for what seemed to be a Sri Lankan movie. A cheesy looking hero peddled up and down the stairs, miming and dancing in a Hawaiian shirt; being laughed at and admired, all at the same time.

Inside was a whole other kettle of fish. A swarm of Hindu prayers echoed through the abyss, and statues encompassed several corners of the cave. It was time for another Hindu epic explanation to those who seemed a little clueless to these weaponed figures, (again, thanks mum for those nightly stories.) Definitely a good place for a South Indian curry.

At night time, you can catch Pasar Malam (night market) in Chinatown, as well as the Central market next door to it. Downtown is a vibrant and colourful kind of habitat, away from the money-hungry feel of the Petronas Towers. And the colours are extended to Thean Hou, an amusement park of a shrine, but no less exhuberant. People might expect a spiritual haven to escape to, but end up in a flashing jungle. The camera lenses glared at the main arena, desperate to make an impression with incense sticks and prayers. So don't expect the Dalai Lama to pass by any time here.

Thean Hou is a little difficult to get to if you don't happen to be amidst the festivities, so maybe not something to go out of your way for. Instead, on the way to Hotel Midah from Chinatown, is the Chan See Shu Yuen temple; the clan house (kongsi) of the Yuen family. It is the largest and oldest in KL, with the present version completed in 1906. A well-preserved family heirloom for all to be inspired by.

Incredible Inle: Myanmar

Accommodation: Four Sisters Inn was a little gem off the beaten track, and right by the magnificent Inle Lake. Rooms around a garden were around $5- $6 for a simple single room, pretty basic. There is also breakfast with pancake and deals with boats, I paid around $10 for a trip around the lake and local fishing villages, although opted out of a few factories, hill tribe ogling within the package. Interesting dining spot sometimes with traditional music instruments. May need to book in advance, as it is a popular little spot.

Places to See: Of course Inle Lake in itself along with all of the surrounding fishing villages. Make sure to negotiate a good boat trip, as they would like to take you to factories and other places not specified on the itinerary on commission. You are looking at about $10-$15 for a half/ full day boat trip. Apart from this, you can also catch a free puppet show usually starts around 7pm. It is a donation-only basis, and definitely a good cause, keeping traditional arts alive in Burma. It is rather cold up in the north, especially around the lake so wrap up warm.

Getting to and from Inle Lake (Nyaungshwe or Heho Airport): Okay, there are two options: 1. In order to avoid giving money directly to 'state-funded' institutions, taking a bus is the most 'spectacular' way of getting here, as well as a sure-fine way of getting majorly ill. The minibus from Bagan costs around $10 (11,000 Kyats) and you spend 12 hours of hell cramped up on top of a wooden bench and blaring wind- as there is no car door. However, it really depends on how passionately you want to oppose the regime, sometimes you have to just invest in a flight. 2. If you could take the more expensive option, its about $60 one way to Heho airport, from which you need to take a taxi into the town. Four Sisters Inn have their own driver which you can tell in advance, however there is a fee for getting into town and taxis at the airport charge extortionate prices.

Transport: Well the name says it all. Inle Lake is best seen by boat, however the town itself is fairly small and easy to walk around. There is a main road that most of the side roads are connected to, using the standard grid system layout.

After quietly 'missing' my minibus to Inle Lake- aka I jumped on in a rush, realised I had forgotten most of my valuables and in a daze figured that this was on a road to hell - I took a flight the following day with guilty pangs and reached there within the hour. On the flight was a veteran traveller, a middle-aged American man, and also an established tour guide escorting a group of very stereotypical elderly Americans. 

He knew the country like the back of his palms, having already travelled around Myanmar 14 times, so a few tips were much needed. He spoke about the fact that this particular group didn't resemble anything like the previous groups in his heyday. Trekking through the mountainous regions of Inle was nothing like what he had planned for this group, attired in sweat pants, plimsoles and golf caps. Rather a nice relaxing tour, staying around the lake and enjoying the fresh air. However, I had a rather less fancy affair, and a cheap guesthouse was what I had in the cards. 

I reached Heho Airport finally realising I hadn't quite informed the hotel of when I was coming due to the problematic connections between the cities. So letting them know as I reached meant I had an hour or so to wait at the airport, in which time plenty of Burmese men and elderly Korean tourists came to ogle at the odd little Indian woman sitting with a giant orange rucksack and hoodie, listening to her MP3 player. Eventually, two congenial men approached stating that they here to take me to Four Sisters Inn, one being the other brother to the siblings. The conversation on the way, turned to family talk as he explained one of the four sisters was now abroad, married to German man. And the guesthouse certainly reflected the family feel when I was greeted by 3 generations of Inle heritage.

After sufficiently settling in, I headed out to the lush lake in a traditional canoe boat fully equipped with motor (otherwise it would have taken more than a day.) Whilst witnessing the mountainous marvel reflected in the opaque, still waters, we conveniently stopped midway in front of a local fisherman. The process included a large net, a punting stick and a hardy man dunking these into the water in order to retrieve a variety of speckled fish. And though it was all part of the Inle itinerary, it was a wonderful sight to behold, and just the beginning of the fishing journey. Further down the line came the villages and the smiling children playing upon petite boats and houses floating upon the lake. Customarily, I was lead to a factory, but one that it unusually produced material goods out of lotus flower fibres.

I took the opportunity to feed my curiousity, so I dabbled around to see how these wonderful scarves, bags and other material goods were made. I also refused to fall for any touristic exploits and quickly headed to a point beside the lake in order to breathe in the breathtaking view. And although the Inle itinerary consisted of a fair few commissioned locations, I opted out of ogling hill tribes and taking in any more factories, certain that I would not spend any more of my last few dollars. Instead, whizzing back and having the cool, refreshing spray from the opaque lake was much more to my taste and to my sanity (having slept and hour out of 24).

 










The hotel was welcoming, specifically the bed and as my head drifted off to dream world, I planned my next trip to a traditional puppet show, a dying art in Myanmar. A spot of light dinner, and I was on my way at 7pm to catch a show in half an hour. The Aung Puppet Show is definitely worth a mention. As I sat with the puppet master drinking tea, he explained as he pointed to a picture of an elderly chap, that his grandfather was a legendary puppet master. Three generations had been taught the fine art of puppetry,but unfortunately he exclaimed, "Children just want to watch TV now, and so we struggle to entertain." I nodded in agreement, as I sat alone on the audience bench. The master ushered to people outside to join his donation-based theatre, but alas, their reluctance was seen on the face and so they managed to flee.

What they missed was a chance to meet Burmese at its best and at its original. All the wooden marionettes featured in the show were carefully crafted by Aung, the master who also sadly has to moonlight in other services in order to keep his puppet show alive. He explained that thanks to the Government, traditional arts are still continued due to their nationalistic patriotism by nature. And so, he attends an annual nationwide puppet competition, keeping him on top of his game. His travelling family were established in Yangon and Bagan, when the show was at its pinnacle, lead by Grandfather Aung. But over the years, it had considerably grown smaller in size, hence being placed on a side street in a quiet little town. It made me even more passionate to see it, and so I eagerly awaited to be doused in culture.

My favourite puppet resembled a small Pinocchio-like marionette that was created to play football, and so it had almost 20-30 different strings being controlled at one point. The puppet master's hands slightly visible from the top, was moving at lightening speed, delicately moving each one to produce an almost human-like movement. I was enlightened that's for sure. However, being stupid enough to 'miss' my minibus meant I had the most limited time in Inle, and so I was off like a shot in the early dawn. But not before watching the wonderful sun rise of the beautiful Inle.

Breathtaking Bagan: Burma/Myanmar

Accommodation: If you choose to take the bus to Bagan and arrive at 3am, then it may be an idea to take the hotels on commission by the horse and cart (H and C) drivers who come to pick up travellers at that time. If shared, you can find better deals. The bus will stop at Nyaung U, and you will be able to find something easily. Eden Motel was a favourite with the LP, ranging from $5 to $10.

Places to see: The 4,000 temples of Bagan. Not all of course, but Old Bagan hosts the most spectacular shrines. Though Dhammayangyi Pahto (Central Plain) a colossal red brick temple and Ananda Pahto (Northern Plain) are the finest preserved temples. Best is to watch the sun rise and set over the wonderous city. Also catch a glimpse of the traditional Burmese markets.

Getting to and from Bagan: The cheapest and most non-exploitative mode of transport to Bagan is via bus for about $10-$15, 12 hours. You will need to keep your passport at hand when entering into Bagan, to buy an entrance ticket for the UNESCO site- even at three in the morning.

Transport: When travelling around the wonders that is Bagan, the best options is to either share a H and C (seems to be the national transport) for about K10,000 ($9 for the day). But if you're a bit more nature-friendly, than bicycles are available all round for less than a dollar a day.

Strolling into Bagan at 3am, earlier than expected was a surprise for SE Asian timing standards. It was as comfortable as a bus should be, again unexpected for the apparently 'backwards' Burmese. On the ready were what seemed to be chariot drivers waiting in the dawn light; but ended up being H and C drivers, a little less spectacular than my imagination. However, they were the kindest, most sincere people; and we were welcomed by their presence as we approached in the dark.

 Obviously rewarded with a miniscule commission, we were ushered into a hotel nearby the station. Although, at that time of night I didn't really mind, as I appreciated any more sleep possible especially with a 8am morning start. The plan was to trek through the boundless plains of Bagan, exploring its endless streams of ancient temples. So geared with the LP Bible, a water bottle as well as a digital camera, off we set, sleepy-eyed through the dusty tracks via H and C. The driver, a young man with a huge amount of knowledge drove us through Nyaung U, Old Bagan as well as the Central Plains, capturing the best of the 4,000 shrines still standing in Bagan today. Though I am less convinced, according to local know-how, in reality there were approximately 40,000 Buddhist temples for the King before numerous amounts of natural disasters wiped them off the face of Myanmar.

Despite the numerous disasters that occurred in this country, standing in awe of history seemed to wash away those thoughts and feelings. The red  brick structures were scattered throughout the city as if all that existed within these realms were the calm, meditative Buddha statues found hidden inside each of the temples. It was tranquil and sincere, with very few tourists ready to turn into a consumer venture.

 

Although there were local souvenir vendors at each temple, it seemed to be an honest living and I got to talking with a one of the sellers. I was curious to why the vendor had selected the most uninspiring spot at the temple, almost impossible to sell any of his wonderful handmade canvas paintings. I discovered that he was allocated there, and was unable to move anywhere else for consumer purposes earning a living- another perk to having a military regime rule a country. Unhappy with his situation, he quietly ushered me to a corner to speak about the general misery faced by local people. Definitely an enlightening conversation.

Alongside my travel buddies, a young Korean woman with ounces of travel knowledge and a hilarious Thai hotel manager, who was duped several times into buying pointless souvenirs; we took hundreds of snaps (mainly of the posing Thai man), but none that could actually capture the splendour. By the time the sun decided to make a quick get-away, we had visited over 12 temples, and we were officially 'templed out.' But not before catching a glimpse of it disappearing into the Bagan plains, from one of the highest temple points. The city glowed and basqued in the warm red sun, leaving only a sillouhette of the 4,000 temples. And though at this point, all the tourists began emerging from their hiding spots to do the same, it took nothing away from the vista.

The next morning consisted of the wonderful smells of the local market place in Nyaung U. From vegetables to local attire, the markets hosted a bountiful amount of Burmese booty. It was the smiles that made me buy something and not the general pushing and shoving. After a full day of templing, I decided to take it slower today, and after about half an hour, I spotted a little internet cafe cleverly disguised as a 7/11. The late afternoon sun was enough to make me drowsy-eyed, but instead I hopped on the back of a bicycle and repeated the day before. The night time was one that I literally forgot after several drinks, hence missing my 5am minibus of hell to Inle Lake. It was fate.

Untouchable Utopia: Yangon, Myanmar

Accommodation:
Motherland Inn 2- Free pickup from airport, able to book buses/flights, currency exchange from dollars; fan, shared bathroom- $13 was $10 at the time. Dorm rooms also available for $8

Places to See: Shwedagon Pagoda can be seen via taxi for $2-$5 or you could attempt to walk however you may need a map, Bogyoke Aung San Market, People's Square Park, not to mention her (Aung San's house)

Getting to and from Yangon: From Bangkok, via AirAsia from £40

Transport: Walkable mostly, otherwise taxis are relatively cheap

Well, I finally made it to the solo leg of my trip aka venturing through the relatively untouched lands of Myanmar/ Burma via Bangkok. So I was constantly warned about a militant government, censorship and general guerrilla behaviour; I took it in my stride to prove that there was more to this small country. As I watched the desolate earth from the plane, I noticed hundreds of glimmering pagodas outlining the horizon, one in particular was the Shwedagon Pagoda- Myanmar's largest Buddhist Temple. The sun reflected into several directions, bouncing off the gold leafed structures as we (several other travellers) finally touched ground level. Out to meet us were several happy staff members from Motherland Inn 2, ready to whisk away a group of tourists in a rather broken down minivan. Thoughts of Mongolia started creeping in, but thankfully the journey lasted half an hour and not 16 hours.

Eventually I made it to the happy haven of Motherland Inn, greeted by a group of smiling faces painted with their traditional wooden sun screen. Everything was conveniently arranged within half an hour. A room, money exhange, buses, flights (however much I protested against it) and further accommodation on the way back despite all evidence to the contrary by various news mediums. Yangon already seemed to be a welcoming, congenial town- but I guess it wasn't them however we were worried about. After a 3 hour nap from a relatively early start, I ventured off through the dusty streets of Myanmar, getting customarily lost in 10 minutes. But this wasn't Vietnam, and there seemed to be less charm to foreign tourists by the local authorities. Surrounded by armed military, certain areas throughout the city were closed off, and an abrupt foot soldier halted us immediately as we realised we had taken a wrong turn.

He ushered us towards the right direction of the pagodas, located centrally. I think being foreign still had its perks even in an authoritarian oppressive country such as Myanmar. So first encounter with the military, and phew we had made it completely intact. On our way, it was unexpected to see a mishmash of several faiths and cultures. If it wasn't monks trailing along the pavements, there were mosques, churches and various other religious areas. The people resembled both South Asians and Eastern people, including wearing their traditional attires. They smiled and contently gestured as we walked for miled on end through Yangon.

The Lonely Planet map was quietly deceptive, and what should have been a 20 minute walk ended up with us roaming around for an hour or so, still without reaching our final destination. The spot we were so desperately trying to head to apparently had amazing night views of city, including of the mammoth sized Shwedagon Pagoda. I say 'night' views, because we were well shot of the dusky sunset by the time we had arrived. Succumbing to a taxi ride wasn't in the itinerary, but with our desperately lacking sense of direction, it was essential.

It was the first glimpse of Myanmar's ambivalent circumstances, as I gazed upon the glittering pagoda from what seemed to be a foreign five star restaurant, on top of a skyscraper. Confused? So was I. It took literally one beer to head out of the location, too befuddled by what I had experienced. I kept my feet firmly on the ground, as we went in search of the next destination- something that supposedly resembled a local Burmese bar. Having kept schtum about it being by birthday the entire time, I finally blurted out that it was- which seemed even a better reason to have a drink and celebrate. Despite all our wanderings about, we were officially lost and starving by this point. So what was local Burmese cuisine? It truly reflected the cultural mixed heritages that had grown to live in the country. Bordering Bangladesh, India, as well as China, the food was an amalgamation of all countries surrounding the lands.

The first meal was unforgettable. It resembled my days of entering the local fooderies in Kolkata, except this was Yangon. For a mere $2, out came a thali (large steel plate) with oodles of different kinds of curries, vegetables, rice, lentils- did I mention the free refills? Satisfied like I had died and gone to heaven, we were still determined to make our way for a drink. And what did we see to our disbelief? An Irish Pub carefully placed under the drinks section of the Lonely Planet. That was absolutely where we heading to next. So it's safe to say, I spent my 23rd birthday in an Irish Pub in Myanmar. Awesome. Though it wasn't as grimy as we would have imagined. Clearly the local Burmese have a rather upmarket view of what an Irish pub entails.

After being sufficiently hungover I headed to Bagan the next day. However, a week later or so, I returned for one day to Yangon in order to truly experience the goliath pagoda. Shwedagon consists of 88 mini golden temples in its construct, not to mention hundreds of Buddha statues and followers aimlessly roaming around the giant complex. My eyes are still blinded by the sheer amount of gold paint used on the temples that's for sure.

Chummy Chiang Mai, Thailand

Accommodation:
Eagle House - 170- 200baht Double room (hot shower, fan toilet)

Places to See: Doi Suthep, Wat Phra Singh, Chiang Mai Night Bazaar, Trekking

Getting to and from Bangkok: (800/500baht) 1st and second class train- 13hours. 490 baht government bus 12 hours.

Transport: Walkable town, saungtheauw to Doi Suthep 50-100 baht each (go in group 4 or more to get it cheaper!)

  After a considerably long 13 hour ride on a train, we reached our destination whilst the sun was still rising. Aligning the Northern Thailand station, were transport touts and tour touts inching their way just to get a glimpse of a foreign tourist. If it wasn’t ‘I can take you wherever you want tomorrow,’ it was ‘Here are our best trekking tours to offer.’ The mayhem had already begun, and I hadn’t even had my morning coffee and stretch at that point.

It was a slightly quieter affair then the humdrum of Bangkok, but equally packed with tourists. However the quaint streets, and the golden temples had a more tranquil atmosphere, an easy walkable town I thought, well that was before the walking had actually begun. After about an hour of strolling aimlessly, trying to find a cheap hostel with our mammoth rucksacks, I collapsed into a corner and decided my stomach needing sustenance was more important right then. So as the other intrepid travellers ventured around to find a hostel, I tucked into a nice coffee and scrambled eggs (Already, western food I know.) It was my chance to finally have a proper Western breakfast after 4/5 months of dumplings and noodles, so I savoured and devoured it within an instant.


The girls returned with a grin on their faces. Victory had been achieved and we had found an adequate hostel namely Eagle House, just off the beaten track. So after another 15 minute stroll with our babies on our backs, we checked into the very tropical-looking Eagle House, fit with swaying trees on a beautiful terrace. So after washing the 13 hours of train dirt under a warm shower, the start of what seemed to be an epic trail began. Through the streets of Chiang Mai we ironically searched for an adequate trek to embark upon.

What seemed to be an entire day of ‘umming’ and ‘ahhing’ and general indecisiveness, we ended up with a cold beer in our hands under the intense Thai heat. One being eco-friendly and didn’t want to parade an Elephant around in it’s own shame; the other having already extensively canooed around; and a broad consensus of not wanting to ogle at hill-tribes meant that we ended up with a big fat zero of a tour. So imagine 3 days of frustration.

The night consisted of seeing the ‘night market,’ which was preceded by a rather sleazy street filled with bars made for old foreign men and young local girls, and a lot of screaming by sellers. So we embraced the Rasta Rooftop bar, with chilled low tables and seats and a psychedelic environment. It was there we met two fellow travellers who accompanied us throughout the night, eating chocolate ice cream, having munchies, watching the fire entertainment as well ending the night at 7am by playing pool. I being miserable at any kind of sports in general, I was given much assistance by the barman, who taught me at least to be able to pot the white ball against another one.

Next day was a hellish one, with minimum sleep we decided to head to Doi Suthep, overlooking the city. The half an hour steep climb up a hill via Saungtheauw made me realise that biking it in that frame may have near what killed us, so I thanked my fellow friends for shaking me to my senses. It was cool, approaching sunset yet was still packed with Thai tourists inappropriately taking photos in the middle of the temple. But as the sun shone on the golden stupa, it illuminated the magical spherical top and gave us all a sense of spiritual awe.

Temple fever soon kicked in after the third day, as we managed to visit a million symmetrical stupas and officially die under the heat. Catching numerous modern monks watching a football match at one point was definitely a highlight and a local cook describing a Buddha statue as ‘happy Buddha, sad Buddha’ whilst acting it out in full still gets me rolling on the floor. After a substantial amount of tea and beer, it was off back to Bangkok and obtaining my Burmese visa woohoo!

Bustling Bangkok, Thailand

Accommodation:
Tavee Guesthouse- 350baht Double room
Apple 2 Guesthouse- 250baht Double, 180baht Single, 100baht Dorm

Places to See: Chatuchak Weekend Market, Floating Market, Chinatown, Canal boats, Wat Pho, National Museum,Grand Palace

Plane from China: Not for the budget traveller!

Transport: Ferry from Khao San to South- (appx.) 15baht, Canal boat to MBK Shopping Centre- 9baht

Bangkok is everything that you hear in those legends passed down from starry-eyed hippy backpackers crossing SE Asia. From the bold to the brash, Khao San Road epitomises the Thai ‘Red light’ district that the oh so noble foreigners tend to chase after.

On the upside, taking a nice ferry boat as means of getting around Bangkok not only suggests travelling around for a bargain price of 15baht, but you get to witness the spectacular sunsets over Nam Mae Chao Phraya (the river going through the city.)

With tour companies aligning the streets of Bangkok, it is easy to get hypnotised and swept away. But it is a good place to bargain a good tour or in my case, a Thai cooking lesson; a must in SE Asian cuisine. From Massaman curry to Green curry, as well as a trip to the local market picking your own produce for the session: its an appetising way to spend a morning or a whole day. Just remember to keep the Fish sauce at hand, as it is literally the staple ingredient of most Thai food. Expect prices to be between $15 to $20 for a reasonable course.

One thing I realised over the course of this adventure is- always travel solo or with ONE other person. You will notice, compared to the usual extensively planned trips and data I provide over one year- this trip is seriously lagging. These were the intended places to visit, but unfortunately getting bogged down with technicalities meant that I have spectacularly avoided doing anything remotely productive.

Supreme Siem Reap: Cambodia

Accommodation: DMS Angkor Villa (Not Recommended!) $6 per night single ensuite

Bus: Same as from Phnom Penh, 6 hours

Places to Visit: Angkor Wat, Angkor National Museum, Massage

By this point it was time to head to my next destination (thankfully)- Siem Reap, a cultural rendevous for sure. After being frozen from the 6 hours bus journey, with A/C on full blast, I hopped off heading to my hotel. Now when I arrived, they told me I was non-existent, though my email confirming my booking said otherwise. This gave them enough time to send me to their 'other' guesthouse, this other being owned by the father. Surprise surprise.

To be once again greeted by an annoying Cambodian became customary, the receptionist within one breath asked me out for a drink and marriage. I never came out of my room ever again, well almost. At about 8am, I headed to Cambodia's 'pride and joy,' the Angkor Temples, one of the Seven wonders of the ancient world. Cool.

I took a motorbike (clearly I wasn't driving) to the temples, this being 1000 sq km, so I wasn't going to walk it. First stop was Angkor Wat, one of the main structures. And they weren't joking when they said it was big. I did a rather rushed 1 hour walkaround, having doubled on myself walking around it and having one day to see as much as I could. There were epic battle scenes from Hindu mythology, the Mahabharat, the Ramayana, the churning of the milk- it was all there engraved in elaborate detail. It was times like this I thanked my nightly religious story from my mother, it all made sense. A fair few lost tourists ogled the engravings having no idea what it was, that was when I stepped in being an amateur tour guide. I should have totally asked for money.

Next was a quiet temple up a large hill, Phnom Bakheng. People had told me it was busy during sunset, but it was completely empty when I got there! Fabulous, can't beat the view. There were hot air balloons parallel to the hill, and the sun raged on the temple of Shiva. The next must have been my favourite. Angkor Thom was a structure of humungous stone Buddhist and Hindu faces, carved within it. Now you have to imagine, these were constructed in the 12th century by some of the Hindu kings who had conquered South East Asia, epic does not cut it. The last one I could manage was the 'famous' one. Ta Prohm had been used for many film shootings including Tomb Raider, haha. It was quite eerie, especially as the tree roots enveloped the structure so it made it slightly shadier than the other temples.

By this point I died, and ended up back at my hotel to eat. The heat was pretty intense, and like a damsel in distress, I swooned. The nighttime was slightly more unexpected. My  friend managed to find me despite having moved hotels, so I was pretty surprised to hear a knock on my hotel door. Dinner was next on the agenda. I was all up for an outdoor barbeque, that was until she put some crocodile meat on it and I cringed. Then drinks was on the menu, at a bar that had fire limbo and fire poy by a man who kept burning himself :)

 

I was thrilled to have a relaxed last day off. So I leisurely woke up to end up in the National Museum of Siem Reap. It was basically a museum dedicated to the Angkor temples, so I was appreciative of the fact I had some insight into it. A few hours there, and then I headed to an art gallery. By this point, I had gotten a little bored of three hours gazing at objexts. So a masage was definitely in order. Once again, the night ended with drinks and the night market. The bar serving $1 cocktails meant we were in there like a shot (excuse the pun). The fact that the barmen were getting drunk on shift meant it was time to take full advantage. It ended with free drinks and the bar man giving us permission to dress him like a woman aka he had make up galore on.

 

Now heres the clincher...I dropped of my friend, as the three of us clung onto a motorbike. Next thing I remember was the driver swerving to avoid an oncoming collision, with another motorbike- then being clipped, or rather hit full on by the bike. The idiot driver didn't even realise, dropped me off at the hotel and drove off. So I went to the concierge, asking for some medical help. He drowsily replied 'we can't help you,'  and fell back asleep. It was time for spiteful revenge. In front of him was my expense page, this being all the services used at the hotel that was noted down, ready to be paid whilst I checked out. It was pretty easy to take as he snored away, and I burnt the blasted thing. Three days of free food, wahey! And it worked like a charm. On the downside, my arm and knee throbbed like a pulsating heart. And they bulged as I took the bus back to Phnom Penh. Thankfully, they heal slowly...

 

So after one night in Phnom Penh...my travels came to an end. And then back to -15 C in Beijing, a living freezer. One word to sum it all up- AWESOME, wouldn't change a thing. Met good people, ate good food and got a tan. Now time to go home!!!

Another World, Phnom Penh: Cambodia

Cambodia (Country Guide) 

Accommodation: Top Banana Guesthouse, $6 a night single room, www.topbanana.biz/

Bus: Capitol Tours, $7 from HCMC, Phnom Penh-->Siem Reap-->Phnom Penh, 7 hours

Places to See: Royal Palace, Tuol Sleng Museum S21, Killing Fields, National Museum, Wat Phnom

So Cambodia, was a mixture to say the least; consisting of the lazy walkarounds of Laos and Vietnam's crazy history...interesting was an understatement. So here goes.

I waved goodbye to Saigon's motorcycles and humdrum life to venture to my next destination- Phnom Penh, Cambodia. The bus journey was the one of the shortest ones I encountered so far- a mere 7 hours, piece of cake I thought. That was until the woman next to me started eating (which was about 5 minutes into the journey). An hour later I must have been covered in crumbs and orange peel, not to mention her legs as she sprawled across both seats thinking I was also a part of the upholstery. On the upside, she gave me food- it was payment for being her foot stool.

 

Now if you remember the China/ Laos border crossing affair, running around thinking I was stuck between the borders and the bus had left me...so dreading the Vietnam/ Cambodia border was a definite. But on the contrary, it was the exact opposite. The coach conductor took full charge of the paperwork, all we had to do is pay money and smile at a camera-and bob's your uncle, we were in Cambodia!

 

Being greeted, rather hounded by Tuk tuk drivers asking either of the following options: stay at their 'friend's' guesthouse, be taken on a tour or hand in marriage, simultaneously meant my blood pressure started rising. A simple no should have sufficed, but when I was sat down in a Tuk tuk, surrounded by 10 drivers asking me for 10 minutes of my time, I grabbed my bag and nudged my way out of their dominion. Finally I made it to the next party central hostel- but this was no SpicyLaos or Drift Backpackers...it was more like a hippy opium den. Hmmm, this could go either way I thought.

 

In Top Banana guesthouse there seemed to be the following two types of characters. One was the lost student/ graduate refusing to find a job, two was the older mid and quarter life crisis men, who had basically lived in the guesthouse for 2/3 years at a time. Being a solo girl, I didn't quite fit into either (thankfully) but I had many nightly conversations with both over some Angkor or Anchor beer;Thai and Cambodian beer that seemed to taste exactly the same.

Thankfully there was one relatively normal Korean American guy who also didn't fit into the status quo and so we journeyed around Phnom Penh by foot and Tuk tuk for 3 days. As soon as I landed we started walking around the city, this taking 6 hours without even realising it. Within the 6 hours, there was coconut drinking, trigger happy photo taking, bar hopping and occasionally running into a 'lady of the night.' See this would not be the end of it which I never realised at the time.

 

The next day was going to be a depressing one. I thought it would be best to get all of the historical rather horrific sights out the way- so here goes...(feel free not read this if you have a weak disposition) First stop was Choeng Ek Killing Fields. That is exactly what it was. So to welcome us into the large grassland with a giant memorial, a 5 storey high building; filled with skulls. About twenty thousand was the figure. Now I am not sure if you are aware that during 1976-1979, the Khmer Rouge (so-called Communist) government controlled Cambodia. The dictator Pol Pot, within this time went on a killing spree, consisting of murdering anyone who seemed to be elitist. Now he wasn't too specific on what elite was, aka even people with glasses was murdered as well as their wives and children.

In three years, three million people were killed in mass graves such as Choeng Ek. Yep, told you it would be depressing. All establishments that seemed of a upper class nature were either destroyed or converted into prisons- that would be my next stop.

 

The fields were surprisingly calm despite all of the history that stained the earth. There were huge craters, some with descriptions on how the people met their ends. The few that struck me was one grave that had '160 bodies with no heads,' in a space that was big enough to fit a bathroom in. Even more so was the tree, where babies heads were smashed against, eek. There were even still traces of clothing and bones around the fields.

 

So after that 'delightful' visit, we headed to the next site; Tuol Sleng (S21). It was originally a school that had been reconstructed as a prison of torture. The prisoners were usually sent to the Killing Fields after they were sufficiently beaten in confinement. There was something even more eerie about the prison. It was quiet, deafeningly silent. Each classroom consisted of just one bed in the middle, a metallic contraption with various other torture devices on top of it, and then a large photograph of one of the 14 victims found dead within the place, in the actual state they were in.

Building B had thousands of pictures lining up across the rooms. Each victim held a number plate, with a solemn countenance, as if they were already dead. Some just barely hit 12 years old, and even babes with their mothers had a shot taken of them. The last room was pictures of their fate. Building C and D were small 'solitary' prisons, no windows, just a brick box to live their last days in.

 

Okay, so after that, being sufficiently depressed was a guarantee. Drowning our sorrows seemed to be the apt thing to do, but a quiet night in was also appropriate. The next day brought more cheery moments for sure.

 

The National Museum was a glorious architectural structure with all sorts of ancient artefacts preserved within it, to present Cambodia's vast cultural history. This being Hindu and Buddhist statues that had been unearthed from some of their magnificent temples. It was a lazy day in all, but it did not prepare me for the night ahead.

 

The first bar was a swanky highrise place, that of course consisted of kareoke. The second was a claustophobic nightclub, enough to fit about 10 people in, yet had hundreds. This is where I happened to be approached by a female prostiture. Yep, thanks I thought in a complete sarcastic way. Then came the madness. Being trapped in a Tuk tuk with one of the quarter life crisis men, his name being Rudie but he prefered to be called the Dalai Lama (exactly) was a rather insane experience.

 

In a small dark alleyway, we stopped in time for him to get into another random car, drive off for 20 minutes and then return with drugs. I was ready to jump out. This guy was crazier than I thought, to give you an example: he took your hand from time to time, then would have a seizure telling you he can see your future.


Yep. I had landed in an asylum. The next place epitomised him, it was basically a brothel. There were hundreds of old foreign men with a young Cambodian nymph on the end of their arm. I hid against the bar being the only foreign girl there, creepy...

So This Is It Saigon: Vietnam

Accommodation: Kim Ngan Guesthouse, $12 a night private ensuite

Bus: Same Travel Pass, 27 hours

Places to Visit:

• Cu Chi Tunnels
• My Tho & Ben Tre Delta
• Reunification Palace
• War Remnants Museum
  

Then came the crazy 28 hour bus ride down to Ho Chi minh (Saigon). It was a definite, that I was not going to sleep for a while after New Years. Ahh how I miss sleep. We stopped off at every major city along the way, so enough time to pee at a restaurant in every place. Nha Trang was the only city where I managed to catch a beautiful beach on an early morning rise. It was pretty quiet still, and the water swayed around the sand and the green mountains. It made the journey worthwhile, well almost.

Reaching in the night meant I had to wait for the morning to venture out. Although I did manage to walk about and get lost within 10 minutes leaving my hotel, duh. The hotel was awesome, so I had to move on my last night to another room, but it didn't stop the sweet grandmother owner to give me free drinks all day! So I headed to My Tho and Ben Tre the next day, two islands on the Mekong delta. It was day to be dragged around like a sheep, which was fantastic as we went to a coconut factory, ate some yummy candy, had some pure honey tea at the Bee farm, and I even held a python eek!! And then took a leisurely canal ride through the tropics, absolutely fabulous, can't complain.

The next day I shot an AK47, a military rifle...as you do in Vietnam. Damn loud contraptions...then to end the day I went to the War Remnants Museum- a reminder why not to shoot an AK47. It was a stomach hurling experience, taking photos of only the appropriate displays; just to give you an idea why not to stock this in your camera- there were real-life deformed human foetuses in jars on display, to show the affects of chemical bombs. Yep, yikes.

HBO Hue: Vietnam

Vietnam (Country Guide)

Accommodation: Hongthien Hotel, $10 a night private ensuite, hongthienhotel.com


Bus: Travel Pass, $25 throughout Vietnam, 5 stops, 13 hours


Places to Visit:

• Forbidden City
• Tomb of Tu Duc
• Thien Mu Pagoda
• Thuan An Beach
• DMZ 

It was luxury, arriving at a hotel, with my own bed, mini fridge, bathroom and HBO cable TV. I was doomed to never go out. The night times consisted of movie marathons, however utterly rubbish the film was. The day times were a little more productive...making my way to the Demilitarised Zones. Going through the underground tunnels and Ho chi Minh trail- consisted of rather interesting underground tunnels, where the tiny Vietnamese lived for 6 years in miniature spaces. It only barely managed to fit my height, so explains how antlike it was (yes yes I know I am vertically challenged.) Then to see the remains of American bombs and fighter jets, was happy to get some insight but the guide was totally unintelligible, her English was pretty bad and forgot to pronounce many of her consonants ie. the tunnels became 'Tunna.''

What else from Hue? The cyclo driver who said he would give a free ride one night, at the end opened out his hand and asked for 50 dong (about $1.70) its not much but he actually tried to dip his hand into my purse! A polite slap on the wrist set him right. Then I was befriended by a waitress who said that she wanted to go to the beach with me as it was her day off, and she wanted a fun girly day out. She then fed me at her house in the village out of Hue, it was a tin hut with one room for 6 people and her dog was evil, but it was a day of appreciation for the local life and the food was fab. The next day I did something out of the ordinary. I behaved and my mother would be proud...I took a Vietnamese cooking lesson! It was pretty awesome, going out to the markets, buying local ingredients and then testing out our culinary skills. The menu was fried and fresh spring rolls, beef noodle soup and Banh Xeo , a traditional Vietnamese pancake with shrimps, pork and veg all wrapped up. Yummy.


That's where I met my adopted mothers. I met these two lovely women in the cooking class, they were from New Zealand and were sisters in law. Being my mum's age they took care of me like their little cub or puppy (if you prefer.) They invited me to their hotel's dinner event, quite swanky, where they were staying and we watched live entertainment. It was traditional dancing and singing, and amazing instruments, topped off with kareoke of course. It was spectacular! The food was all you can eat, and literally there were bbq, Japanese, Chinese, continental food, rows and rows of desserts...I stocked up on my food intake for sure for the next few days. So New Years was tame that's for sure and the complete opposite of Christmas.