Semi-Organised

Finally, I've got my flights booked. Arriving in Paris on the orning of the 7th of December. Yay! Home! Home being anywhere in Europe.

Also, I got my camera back form being repaired today.
Again.
Yay! Working camera. And there was much rejoicing.

Now the bad news

I just got an e-mail from the casting agent in Chiang Mai, near where Pinkerville will be shot. Due the the Writers Guild of America Strike, the Oliver Stone film I was going to play an American soldier in (not a major role) has been postponed indefinitely. No pinkerville for me, or toys. sniff. I was looking forward to keeping the costume.

Vang Vieng

Tubing. That's what Vang Vieng is all about. And that's what We couldn't do because it was too cold! It was hilarious. I loved it. The grey skies and constant drissle reminded me of home and were very refreshing, but I think I was alone with those feelings.

All the guide books go on about Bars showing Friends all day every day, and it's not something you can really beleive until you see it. But there they are, bars full of travellers, staring vacantly at screens, and that bloody annoying, and misplaced, laughter track. I'm not a fan of the show.

Having said that, the system works really well. People are out late most nights, and are too tired during the day to really do anything that requires higher brain functions. So the bars fit in perfectly. There's even an "Irish Bar". Unoffially. Irish in that it's full of Irish people, not because of any name or regalia. The reason? Unlike all the other bars, it shows "Family Guy" constantly.

The third day came, and we had decided that rain or shine we were hitting the water. Luckily there was shine! And plenty of swings out into the centre of the river with 20m+ drops to keep me aching the next day. Oh yeah, and the next day? A kayaking trip down the river to the capital, Vientiane. We got tossed into the water on two of the white water rapids.
All part of the fun.

Plain of Jars

The logic was that although I was the only one without a licence, I still had the most experience driving "manual", or anything close to a 1970s Jeep. Result: Jeeps on dirt roads are cool. I didn't even make it roll!

There was only one point I wasn't so sure of myself; when our guide, Khong, took a little too long to answer the question "This road has been cleared of mines, right?"

No one really knows why the jars were built, but the assumption is that they were used as giant funeral Urns. Walking around, I kept on thinking of how much the place reminded me of the fields full of Megalithic tombs in southern Sligo.

If they were in the middle of 100s of thousands of Unexploded Ordinance (UXOs) The Mines Advisory Group, partly funded by Irish Aid, is working to clear the area so it can get World Heritage status. But as Laos is the most heavily bombed country in History, this is going to take some time. I did learn from our guide, Mr. Khong, that American Cluster bomb casings do make excellent BBQ Grills, horse feeds, House stilts, and Aqueducts. Provided they don't first blow up in your face when you move them. And his final bit of insight: In Laos, the rich don't go to jail, and the poor don't go to hospital.

Until then, DO NOT WALK OUTSIDE OF THE WHITE MARKERS.

It started to pour rain half way through the day, so we didn't stay long, and the others hid in the relative shelter on the other side of this monster.

"This is not the dog's bollox, this is just bollox". Khong said, while also also claiming that it wasn't raining, but just mist. Definitely, if you vist the area, he is one character that will make your trip.

Even when we were stuck by the side of the road for a half hour after the lady at the petrol station poured Diesel into the Petrol jeeps tank, we were still having fun.

Draining an engine: A life skill.

Got back into Phonsavan for the last bus for Vang Vieng, and the town's speciality, bbq Swallow.
Tastes like Liver.

I hate Liver.

Luang Prabang

We took the slow boat from the Thai Border town of Chiang Kong / Huay Xai for two days down the muddy Mekong to the beautiful city of Luang Prabang.

It's the kind of place that sucks you in and forces you to relax, no matter how tightly wound you are. We arrived on a Sunday, and the Festival would be the following Saturday. In between, take in some Wats, and hang out with some monks, giving plenty of English, French, and even Japanese conversation classes. Internationalisation at a grass roots level: Once a Jet, well, you know how it goes.

I enjoyed the two day slow boat, not least because of the "Slow Boat Family" that forms on board. The result is that when you get to Luang Prabang, you've got a very large number of people you already know fairly well to hang out with. It made a nice change from the solo traveling I've been mostly doing.
Of course, it wasn't long until i heard a familair accent. There's Cillian and I on our trusty steeds, taking on the mudiest tracks around. Go on ye good thing!

I didn't really do a hell of a lot there though as for three nights in a row I wasn't sleeping properly. It wasn't full on insomnia, but it did make me feel like a zombie during the first half of the week, and barely able to even read the notices outside the temples, or really take anything in. Another backpacker gave me some Melotonin, which helped a litttle, and then the pharmacy gave me something that saved the week for me. I was sleeping well, and feeling alive for the first time in days. The tablets had some generic name on them, which I later learned had the same main ingredient as Valium. Oh dear...


It did mean I was able to get up for the Alms giving each morning. The monks and novices filed out of their temples from half 5 each morning to collect their food for the day from the faithful. Women and children lined the streets around the temples, waiting to give their offerings of sticky rice and biscuits. Women and Children. The other thing that struck me about Luang Prabang was the women. From before sunrise to well after sunset, I saw them on the streets, manning their stalls, every day. It seems that here, the women do all of the work, and it's not easy.

There are a ridiculous number of photos form Luang Prabang here, most with comments giving more detail than this post.


After a week or "relaxing", and wandering, and impromptu teaching, finally came the end of Buddhist lent.

There are some more photos of the night itself up here.

Then, a final farewell to those of the Slow boat famil who were still around, and off with some new partners in grime the South.

Thai

Bangkok hasn't changed so much.

I wandered around meeting people, from the toothless old canal fisherman to the high flyer who spent more on one drink than I did in a whole day.

There was an evening in the local park translating between a Thai juggler and 3 Japanese students learning poi, in between practicing handstands and doing some Brazilian dance martal art (Cappella? Capoeira?).

There was lots of eating great food.

Dancing with a horny Indian on his first ever holiday.

And all topped off with learning more about the historical Buddha.

Finally, Laos Visa in hand, I arrived early in the morning in Chiang Mai after not sleeping very well on the train. The bunk was not David sized. I planned on leaving that afternoon for the Laos border, but thought it better to get a decent night's sleep first. This turned into 5 nights after finding first a cookery, and then a massage course.

Despite the look on her face, my Japanese partner / victim is REALLY enjoying the head massage. Honest!

Timmy, our teacher was amazing. Someone has already wrote a little bit about her here so if you are going to Chiang Mai, I highly recommend looking her up.

Oh, and the Sunday Market is much better than the Night market, and is enormous.

All of the photos form Thailand can be found here.

This is one of the many signs posted on the trees around the main Temple in Chinag Mai, as teaching aids for the novice moonks. You can wander around their garden, taking in some of the Dhamma, feeling the serenity from the trees, or go here for photos of the rest of the signs.

Craggy

I've almost been this scared before; climbing wall in UCD. But here, the feeling is FAR greater.

It's when I'm holding on with both hands, unable to reach for a better grip because I know my other hand doesn't have the strength left to hold me on its own. Then I feel the strength quickly seeping away until I know I can't hug the rock any longer. Palms sweaty, I always make one last reach, and fall.

There I am, completely knackered, and the view across the bay. Railay Beach, Krabi, Thailand

There are a couple of other photos from Kabi, mostly from a half day I spent with a horse riding company there. I had my camera so I offered to take some shots for them to use on their new website and flyers. That was fine, but they also wanted some of me, as a tourist, with the horses. We went for an hour long ride on the beach, and I practiced a host of cheesy grins.

Then on, and the night train to Bangkok.

Leaving Malaysia

At last!

To say that I am behind schedule would be a bit of an understatement. I think it's safe to say that I will not be coming home by rail from Beijing now... Hopefully onto Hong Kong by December and home from there. Well, back to Europe at least. I still intend to hang out with Marielle and Francisco in Paris, and what increasingly seems like half of Dublin in London (Well, the two people who read this most at least).

Right now, I'm on Penang, in Georgetown to be precise, but not for the beaches or sightseeing or anything like that. For the bus to Krabi. I've heard there is good rock climbing there.

I should be honest; this is the only post on this blog with the real date. Everything else was posted tonight, although some were half written earlier. I've posted them with he dates when the events took place to keep everything in order.

I'll sign off with a picture from the largest Buddhist temple in Malaysia.

A scene reminiscent of my teaching in Koyasan, deer, attentive students and all!