Happy New Year!

Gallons of fluorescent paint. 40,000 people. Every kind of music you could think of. Thousands of buckets. A midnight countdown. One beach.

Welcome to Koh Phangan’s New Year Full Moon festival.

A Full Moon party in full swing

Its regularly listed as one of the top 10 parties in the world. Imagine Cleethorpes beach covered end to end with dancing, illuminous t-shirt wearing, bucket holding partygoers, around a dozen huge sound systems, people from every corner of the globe… No actually, don’t. Unless you come to Koh Phangan and see a Full Moon party for yourself, there is no way you can get your head around the sheer scale of what happens every month on Haad Rin beach.

But then its cranked up even further for New Year – it gets even bigger. The smell of paraffin in the air from the dozens of fire shows and burning skipping ropes glowing along the shore. The sight of hundreds of people crammed high up on a temporary stage, dancing in unison to some of the biggest DJs around. The sound of the waves crashing ashore, lapping over the feet of some poor soul who passed out well before 2012 officially arrived.

This is why I ditched my original plan to spend New Year in Sydney!

On the beach, on the stroke of midnight, practically anyone travelling or backpacking in southeast Asia was there, looking up at the sky as half an hour of the most amazing fireworks filled every available space above the horizon.

All around, everyone is covered in fluorescent paint, glowing under the ultraviolet lights dotted all over the sand. Be it stripes, dots, squiggles, my attempt at a Canadian maple leaf on my mate Bryce’s arm, or just random colouring in, it didn’t really matter – just as long as you had some on.

Bryce looking good, as I paint his arm

Neon light sticks, glowsticks and glowing ears add to the effect as you look out across a sea of people towards the, well, sea. Fire breathers and fire jugglers add to the chaos. Throw in some tables to dance on, and well, you get the picture. As nights out go, the New Year bash here surely ranks as one of the best nights out you’ll have in your life. Things can get messy – so much so, I took no chances – camera, phone, watch, even my glasses were left behind in a locked safe. I went out blind…and after a bucket, it wouldn’t matter anyway!

Glowy things

I arrived on the island of Koh Phangan absolutely shattered. Having stayed up all night to make sure I caught my 6am flight from Singapore, I’d only managed to grab an hours sleep on the plane. Infact, the only bits I remember of the flight are the safety announcements before take off, and a thud as we hit the tarmac in Krabi. I slept like a baby, but it was to be the only sleep I’d really get.

Leaving Krabi

I was shepherded onto a crammed public bus at the airport, and then onto another even more crammed public bus at Krabi which then wound its way through every small village on its way to Surat Thani, on Thailands south east coast. From there it was onto a large rusty ferry, absolutely full of backpackers heading to exactly the same party as me.

Party island arrival!

It took three hours to sail to the island, where I was then bundled into a tuk tuk with a few others who were heading towards the main party town of Haad Rin. One girl suddenly jumped out after realising the place she was staying was only a short walk away. We wished her well!

Bryce and Erin. And a bucket.

I was on my way to meet Bryce and Erin, the Canadian and American that I met at the Spicy Thai hostel in Chiang Mai. We’d had a brilliant time together, and got on so well, that we agreed to spend New Year together. I was to share a bungalow with Bryce and his friend Wigley – real name Trevor – on the sunset side of the southern peninsula, helpfully just out of the way of the main chaotic area of Haad Rin.

We enjoyed meeting up and had dinner together and discussed plans for New Years Eve the following day. Beersbie was being touted as the main way of having fun on the beach and having a few drinks at the same time. Let me explain.

Beersbie throwers

In the back of a tuk tuk in Chiang Mai, Bryce handed me a business card that he’d had made up detailing the rules of a game involving a Frisbee and beer. Lots of beer.

Aim for the can...or its post to knock it off

Its effectively an outdoor drinking game where you stand a can on a stick, split up into teams, and take it in turns to throw a Frisbee and try to knock the opposing teams can off their stick. Every time someone messes up, spills a drink, drops a catch, that kind of thing, the whole team has to have a drink.

If the can is knocked off, the team has to try to catch it before it hits the ground!

It soon became clear why I’d been advised to buy some ‘girly’ Bacardi Breezers – they are much easier to drink in rapid succession, as it’s a fairly fast-moving game! It was a perfect warm up for the evening – if you want to know more, visit http://www.beersbie.com. I might have to introduce it to Hull next summer. Oh, and I was on the winning team!

Preparations underway

By the time we left the beach, preparations for the night were well underway, with countdown clocks, stages and lighting already being put in place.

Its actually a really nice beach in addition to the party!

With a New Year’s dinner of pie and mash to line the stomach, the festivities began with a trip to 7-Eleven. There’s something stupid like 300,000+ 7-Elevens in Thailand, pretty much everywhere you look. The best thing about them is the 7-Eleven bar. Of course, its not a bar, but a big chiller at the back of the shop, but the drinks in there are so cheap! Then it was down to the beach. Impressive, to say the least.

Full Moon beach

I first came here in May last year, and somehow managed to pass out on the beach in the early hours. That’s because it was my first introduction to buckets – a bit of a Thai tradition, whereby you pick whatever poison is your favourite, to go with whatever soft drink you decide, and then mixed in with a bottle of Red Bull.

Crowds heading to the beach and passing some of the bucket bars

They’re sold everywhere – by Mickey, by Jane, by John (they all have simple names to remember!) – each with their own little slogan. Some will ‘love you longtime’, some will ‘sell you their daughter too’, whereas my bucket dealer was Tony – he offers free hugs.

With Tony Bucket, as Wigley demonstrates what his drinks can do to you!

Tony is a great guy. I was introduced to him by Bryce and Erin and we would go on to know each other well over the next few weeks. He’s typically Thai – kind, funny, welcoming and with a smile that you just can’t seem to find anywhere else in the world. He has ‘Hi 5’ written on his hand in permanent marker every night, and has an amazing knack of remembering names of everyone who buys drinks from him. He also let me write my blog address on his stand after hearing about what I was writing!

A bit of free marketing!

I opted for a Sang Som bucket, mainly because its cheap, but also because although its called Thai Whisky, its actually rum. And I’m quite partial to a bit of rum!

In it went, into my bucket, along with some Coke and a bottle of Red Bull.

At this point, I need to do more explaining. This is not the Red Bull you can get at home. Well, it is, in that it’s the same company – except this stuff surely has something in it that jumps through legal substance loopholes more often than that legal bod gets celebrities off parking fines.

It tastes like fizzy Red Bull at home, but there’s no fizz. There’s not as much of it either – its been condensed down into a little glass bottle. And it can keep you awake until the next Millennium if you drink too much of it.

Tony Bucket!

All in all, it’s the stuff that keeps everyone going until sunrise, and after a couple of Tony’s buckets, its easy to see how I managed to pass out last time I was here, much to my friend Cat’s amusement.

A bit more paint!

Determined not to do something similar, I eased off a little, but then I had a bigger problem. Following the orange shirt of one of Bryce’s friends towards the countdown clock, there were just minutes left before the New Year started. And then he turned around. It wasn’t him.

I looked back behind me. Bryce was no longer there either. Somehow I’d lost everyone. With three minutes left on the countdown, and it being nigh on impossible to find anyone quickly on the beach, my heart sank. I was on my own.

Three…two…one…Happy New Year!!!

At around the time I should have been linking my arms with Bryce, Erin and the gang and singing that Auld Lang Syne song for the year, I was actually smiling at everyone celebrating around me and watched the fireworks launch from the stand in front of me.

After a pretty rubbish New Year last year thanks to ex girlfriend situations, I made a vow while I was with my mate Rich in Pozition nightclub as the clock struck midnight (yes, Pozition…it really was that bad a New Year!) that in a year’s time, I would be somewhere far away and having an amazing time, that I’d get hold of my life and have something fun to celebrate within the next 12 months.

I might have been stood on my own, but I was watching some incredible fireworks alongside tens of thousands of other people who were all in the same boat as me. On a beach, in the warmth, thousands of miles from home and in the middle of epic journeys, meeting new friends and making memories to last a lifetime.

If someone would have grabbed hold of me at the bar in Pozition that night and told me exactly what I would be doing on that night in 12 months time, I would never have believed them!

I made my way back towards Tony’s bucket stand, an agreed meeting point, and met up with Wigley and a few of the other guys from Canada. We headed off, got on some tables, and danced.

I ended up talking to some Australian guys, who loved the fact I apparently sound like one of the Inbetweeners. In the end, I spent most of the night with them, laughing, dancing on tables, falling over in the sea, buying new, and dry, Full Moon t-shirts and generally having a fantastic time. It was one of those nights where time just flies by, when you’re having so much fun meeting people and dancing, that suddenly it’s the early hours.

Watching dawn break on 2012

A group of us sat down on the sand, and before we knew it, the sky started to brighten. We sat and watched as the sun rose on the horizon ahead of us. 2012 had dawned.

Still dancing at dawn

Somehow Bryce found me as I was laying on the sand with my new Australian friends, and we all sat together for a few hours before heading to Chicken Corner, one of the most famous food places on the island, for a chicken sandwich.

Clearly far too excited about a chicken sarnie breakfast. It was good though!

We all had loads of banter over the chicken sandwich, and for some reason none of us felt that tired. There were so many people milling around, yet everything I saw was so good natured. The travelling community here, while there may be the odd mishap or fight here and there (not that I actually saw any, but then there are enough people to fill Blundell Park almost five times over) is such a friendly bunch.

It might have been a slug impression?!

I walked the group of Australian girls we’d met back to their morning ferry for their rough-looking crossing back to Koh Samui, where they were staying, and headed back to the bungalow.

In the words of the Inbetweeners...'ahh, Friends...New Year Australian Friends'!

It was 9.30am. Somehow, the whole night had passed. Back home at that time I’d already be 15 minutes into the Look North morning meeting. But here I was, stumbling into bed, having had one of the most amazing nights of my life.

Thankfully, the hangover – or Changover in these parts thanks to the beer – wasn’t too bad. The weather, however, was. From nowhere, an almighty storm had descended on the island. It was so bad, the boats to and from Koh Phangan had been cancelled. Those who had planned to leave during the day after New Year were stranded. There was nothing they could do but sit it out. As did we all.

A bit wet...

There was almost one casualty of my post-Full Moon New Year state – my netbook. Sitting on the porch, recounting stories from the night before, my netbook was on my lap in a desperate search for some wifi. Suddenly a gust of wind caught the screen, which acted like a sail and pulled it off my knee.

Who ordered the storm?

Somehow I managed to catch it – with my hand that was holding a Shrimp Tom Yum pot noodle. I’d saved it from certain oblivion on a tiled floor, but I’d poured all manner of herbs, spices and liquid all over it in the process.

Annoyingly, ‘p’ and ‘0’ were the only keys that wouldn’t work. Some said it could have been worse. Not when you’ve got the name Phillip, it couldn’t.

After having it in bits, including taking the keyboard completely out to dry it, it was still having none of it. The blog would be incredibly hard to keep up from now on. And on all my forms I’d be known as Hilli. Not the best.

Two days of this...

The storms continued for two days, resulting in numerous power cuts and travel dilemmas for people on the island. We sat it out by playing cards and drinking Chang. Oh, and by drying my netbook – by the time the storms passed, it was fully working again.

With Bryce, Erin and Wigley making their way to Laos, it was time for me to leave the island too. I can see Koh Samui across the water, and over there there’s a friend in hospital. Perhaps I should pay him a visit…

Saying goodbye, again, to Bryce and Wigley

On their way to Laos. I'm heading to Koh Samui

The Merlion

Wow – what happened here?!

Somebody has taken hold of Singapore, shaken it up and injected a whole lot of fun – and I absolutely love the end result.

Singapore by night

This tiny, expensive country is known for its high standards of living, its rich businesses, tall skyscrapers and a ban on chewing gum. When I last visited seven years ago, I spent two days in the city. It was enjoyable – quiet, colonial, stacked with bits of history and riverside bars for a leisurely lunch.

Theme parks, casinos, extravagant shopping malls and laser light displays were a long way from Singapore minds back then, yet this city state has become something I would definitely return back to after having one of the biggest facelifts I have ever seen.

The best thing is, the quaint Singapore is still there, where you can wander around endless quiet lanes, all spotlessly clean and full of interesting shops and restaurants.

Old Singapore is still charming

My visit back in 2005 was at the end of three weeks in Australia, and I stayed at the Inn Crowd hostel. It’s in Little India, and at the time was my first ever night in a dorm room bed. I looked it up on the internet, found it was still on the go and booked myself in for my two nights in the city.

Different league to the Megabus

First I had to get there, and what a journey – with a company called Odyssey, I left from a place well out of the centre of Kuala Lumpur, and away from many of the tourist buses. This was pure luxury – sumptuously padded huge leather seats that recline, personal tv screen, entertainment, food and drinks served by a waiter on the journey, wifi. It was worlds apart from anything I’ve travelled in over recent weeks.

Plush

It was about four hours before we reached immigration checkpoints and a huge bridge that connects Malaysia with Singapore. Sadly, it was raining hard – the tropical weather is one of the problems in this area – but dropped off in Singapore I arrived feeling relaxed and ready to explore.

Wet arrival into the Singapore border crossing

Arriving at the hostel, it was as if the last seven years had disappeared. It looked exactly as I remembered it, with its purple and orange canopy covering the doorway, nestled in between a 7-Eleven and a few bars. All around, members of the Indian community were in the streets eating some excellent looking currys and naan breads.

Inside the Inn Crowd hostel

I had no time to dawdle though, which is a shame as its one of my favourite pastimes. I had just a matter of hours to see the city, which I am treating as a bonus stop off. After all, I never had any intention of coming this far – I was in Singapore purely because of the savings I was making by flying back to Krabi in Thailand from there. However, I wanted to make the most of it.

Logging on to Facebook, James, a good friend from school – and who travelled the world himself in the last year – tipped me off about a light show in the evenings. I’d been to one before in Hong Kong and it was spectacular, so that became my ‘thing to do’ for the evening.

I had walked just a few blocks in the sticky evening heat when suddenly the heavens opened. I got soaked. My flip flops were slipping everywhere. I contemplated turning back.

Colourful

Then I caught sight of the waterfront, and everything changed. I was mesmorised by the colours, the lights, the new landscape in front of me. My memories of last time were of a waterfront dominated by a few skyscrapers belonging to the banks, the Merlion statue and a few boats sailing around in the darkness on the water. Its most extravagant building was the modern arts building, with a surface resembling some kind of metallic hedgehog.

Light show at Marina Bay Sands

I looked across the bay. Where once there was darkness and a horizon, there are now three huge glittering buildings, topped off by what looks like some kind of mastless yacht. To the left, a sophisticated steel bridge, adorned with the lights of thousands of cars. There’s a stage with around 20 people singing and playing odd wooden instruments, their sound filling the air. In the water, thousands of white balls of varying sizes light up in the colour of whatever light shines upon them. In the distance, radio controlled kites, lit up with neon sticks and LEDs, flit around the night sky, almost like they’re doing an excited dance to celebrate how Singapore has moved forward so quickly in the last few years.

Everywhere you look, something was happening – and then the light show started. Lasers, water fountains, music – it was an assault on the senses, and one that I loved.

The Merlion, symbol of Singapore

I walked around to the Merlion, Singapore’s mascot. The fish part of its body represents Singapore’s beginnings as a fishing village. The lion head represents Singapore’s original name, Singapura, meaning the ‘lion city’. It’s a city still proud of its history, even that before Sir Stamford Raffles first set foot on the island and started off the transition into one of the world’s largest and most important ports, as well as being one of the biggest business and trade centres on the planet.

Sir Stamford Raffles statue at the point where he landed, keeping watch over his city

I sat for a while, watching the water gushing from the Merlion’s mouth and taking in everything around me. When I last sat in exactly the same spot, I was on my way home and had a 14 hour journey ahead of me. Now I sat knowing I was still on my way as part of my journey, that the journey had brought me back to Singapore, and ultimately, most of that journey over the huge landmass between this southern point of Asia and back home had been made over land.

By now I was hungry, but I’d been saving myself for one of the street food centres that I remembered so well from my last visit, mainly as, to this day, I maintain it was the best chicken satay I’ve ever tasted. I remember being sat in the middle of the street on a rickety table and chair, with a beer and a whole tray of beef and chicken on sticks for about £1.50. With nothing other than remembering it wasn’t far from the Merlion, I set off in my hunt for the same place.

Found it...satay street!

It was a good hour of walking in circles before I found La Pau Sat hawker centre – and it hadn’t changed. Where during the day, cars pass along the four lanes of the road, by night its filled with Singaporeans and tourists munching away on satay and noodles, washed down with ice cold beers, while the sweet smell of glazed chicken drifts across the entire area from the surrounding barbecues.

Like most things in Singapore, the price had shot up. It was £3 for 10 sticks, but worth every penny. They tasted just as good as I remembered. Back then, the guy who sold me them got talking to me, and pinned a Grimsby Telegraph business card to his stall. It was, of course, long gone, but I wondered what had happened to him. Perhaps he was still there, sataying every night. He might have even cooked my tea once again for me. I’ll never know, but for a few minutes, everything that had happened in the seven years since disappeared as I melted back into the moment I remember so well just a few metres away from me in that same street. Delicious, and well worth a visit.

The next day I knew would be a bit of a mission – to cram in as much of Singapore as possible. I even woke up early, such was the time pressure, and I don’t do that lightly!

Breakfast put a smile on my face – it was still the ‘two eggs, two slices of toast’ rule that the hostel had when I stayed those years ago. The Inn Crowd may have had a bit of a redesign downstairs – the reception had moved, the doors had changed and everywhere was covered in wooden flooring – but it still has the same feel about it. I was even ‘welcomed back’ when I checked in, with a bit of chin wagging about how it had evolved since my first visit.

The reason why I smiled over breakfast was also because it brought back memories of one of the biggest clangers I’ve ever dropped while trying to make new friends. It was in that kitchen on my first morning there in January 2005, having woken up for my first ever morning in a hostel, that I’d made my way to breakfast and sat down with about 12 other backpackers. I’d had my toast, and in an effort to be friendly and make a good impression, I offered to make a round of tea and coffee.

It took me a while, almost as long as a tea-round in the BBC Look North newsroom, but I got there. Everything was milked, some wanted it strong, some wanted lots of sugar. All went well – until the tea was tasted.

Actually, it was spat out back into a cup by some big Scandinavian-looking guy, who then just glared at me. He was followed by a few others who glared at me. I tasted mine. I soon realised why.

The pot of sugar that I had delved into with the teaspoon was actually the main salt container for the kitchen, resulting in twelve thirsty backpackers thinking it was some kind of hilarious practical joke. Awkward, to say the least.

Thankfully the pots nowadays have labels on them, so after a nice cup of Lipton Yellow Label (still rubbish, but used to it now) and some crushed up boiled eggs on toast, I was good to go – and first stop was the Raffles Hotel, my final stop the last time I was here.

At Raffles Hotel

The Long Bar is the home of the Singapore Sling cocktail, where it was first mixed by a bartender there sometime around 1915, and I sipped one on the balcony there, watching the sun go down, just a few hours before my flight left for the UK almost seven years ago to the day.

How much?!

Even back then it was pricey – I paid about £12 for the drink and to keep the souvenir glass it came in. I almost choked when I saw the same drink and glass won’t leave you with much change from £25. Thankfully, mine is still in a cabinet back home, so I moved on!

The colonial-style hotel is luxurious, and I do like the way they let you wander around through its grounds. It was very quiet and relaxed, with the odd staff member giving me a smile as I made my way around taking photos. Named after Sir Stamford Raffles, Singapore’s founder, it’s among the most famous hotels in the world. I was going to try to sneak into the main part of the hotel, sectioned off for residents only, but decided that with my shorts and flip flops, I’d blend in about as well as a Scunthorpe United fan at a Grimsby Town awards night.

Instead, I blagged myself into something much more fun. Well, I say blagged – it was more ‘ignore the signs and railings and see what happens’ to be honest, but I did end up on the start and finish straight of the Formula One track!

I don't think anyone's watching!

Singapore began hosting a stage of the Formula One season on its new street circuit in 2008, and became the first ever night race in the sport. Its another example of how this city state has turned around its straight-laced image – and as I made my way through some yellow barriers I found myself looking at skid marks and road markings left behind by Jenson, Lewis and co just a couple of months previous.

There was nobody else around, but I carried on walking as if I was supposed to be there. I didn’t have any tell-tale tourist signs like a bag or a camera dangling off me, and so I just carried on. There were a few workmen on the main straight dismantling a couple of stands, but even they just looked at me and carried on.

Great shot...but I was about to get rumbled!

I came unstuck, however, when I found the pit straight. Still with the team names, logos and drivers names above their garages – and tyre marks on the painted shiny surface where each car would grind to a halt for pit stops – I tried to imagine what it must be like on a race day.

Then there was a man waving his hands at me. My jobsworth detector immediately kicked into action, although to be fair, I was completely in the wrong. I began thinking of an excuse, but in the end opted for a big smile.

“Not supposed to be here,” the overall-wearing bloke said to me in broken English.

“Aww, just one photo,” I smiled back.

He paused, did a shifty look around, then smiled back.

“Keep away from the petrol lorry,” he replied, pointing at a line of fuel heading into an underground tank.

Brilliant! Back home I’d have been frogmarched out by some heavies in fluorescent coats, had the police called on me for trespassing and probably banned from the area for good. Here, I’d been smiled at and welcomed, as long as I didn’t blow up the petrol wagon.

In pole position!

As he turned to answer a phonecall, I thanked him with a big cheesy grin and got a couple more snaps in the pit lane before moving on to the pole position place on the start grid. There was a little hole in the middle of each start position, which I’m presuming is for some sort of false start equipment, and there were little splodges on the track from the fragments of hot tyre rubber that had been worked into the asphalt.

It certainly hadn’t been on my list of places to visit, but its definitely one of the most memorable, and it’ll be fun to watch the race here on the television next season when I’m back home.

New Year preparations

It was already lunchtime, and I still had lots to do. I walked around the marina, where workmen were throwing big white balls into the water, each daubed with Christmas and New Year messages.

Messages from around the world

They were being moved into the centre of the marina in readiness for the New Year fireworks and celebration show in a couple of days. I’m presuming they’ve been blown up and signed by visitors somewhere, and I spent a few minutes reading the messages from people who had visited from around the world.

Sentosa

Next stop was Resorts World Sentosa, another addition to Singapore’s fun side, located on a separate island just to the south. Much of the island of Sentosa is given over to a huge new Universal Studios theme park, but there’s loads of other places too, like a downhill luge track, marine park, casinos, shopping and beaches. Yes – beaches.

A beach? In Singapore?!

They may be man made, but they have sand, shells and clean water lapping up onto the shore. Admittedly, with the world’s busiest shipping port next door, you need to squint to block out the dozens of huge container ships and tankers on the horizon. But it’s a beach all the same, and it means after just a 20 minute journey from the centre of the bustling metropolis, you can be paddling in the waves.

No laughing at the flip flop tan!

An extra bonus for me was to find a plaque marking the furthest point south on continental Asia. Having spent the last two and a half months making my way overland round from Europe, this was now as far as I could go – well and truly the end of the line. With just the sea to the south, the next time I go further will be on a plane to Australia. But almost 10,000km from Moscow now, it was time to reflect on one huge journey so far – an adventure that is missed from the air. Its certainly a lot warmer here than during those cold, icy days walking through the steppes of Mongolia in the snow!

Can't go any further!

It was now 4pm, and I knew the sun would start setting shortly. I needed to get back to the city, as I’d decided to stump up the cash for a trip to the Sky Park at the top of Marina Bay Sands resort to watch the sun set over the skyscrapers opposite.

'How beautiful are your branches'!

Spotted a great Christmas tree on the way though-you might need to look closely. I had a double take on the way past, and the barman told me quite a few people had spotted it and laughed!

View from the top of Marina Bay Sands resort

I arrived in the vast shopping centre underneath the three huge buildings to find a gondola floating along a canal. The company that built this massive resort – and got Singapore’s stringent gambling laws relaxed for the first time – is the same company behind the Venetian in Las Vegas. Its billed as the most expensive standalone casino resort complex in the world, costing £4-billion to build, features a 2,561-room hotel, a museum, two huge theatres – one being home to The Lion King – an ice rink, seven celebrity chef restaurants…the list goes on.

The sun sets over the city

There is definitely an awe-inspiring Las Vegas feel to the place, matched by some awe-inspiring prices. It costs £10 just to go up in the lift to the top floor Sky Park, set on top of the world’s largest public cantilevered platform, and where a can of Coke sets you back £4. The view, and the photos from the top, however, were worth the entry price.

One day...when I win the lottery...

Sadly, you don’t get to see, or use, the 150m infinity pool being used by the hotel guests to watch the sun set over the city just a few metres behind a security door, but you do get a great 360degree view that is surely unsurpassed even by the Singapore Flyer, the big wheel that knocked the London Eye off its ‘biggest wheel in the world’ perch.

The Singapore Flyer below

Singapore, it has to be said, is a city – and a country – that now looks better at night than it does in the day. The lighting, the lasers, the skyscrapers – everything was big and bright.

Fullerton Hotel and old Singapore

I watched the nightly music and light show once again before heading to a brilliant exhibition at the ArtScience museum, Titanic.

Mock up of a Titanic room

Ever since my university days in Southampton, where my halls of residence were across from the former Canute Road offices of White Star Line, and just a few hundred metres from where Titanic sailed, I’ve had a bit of a fascination with the story about the ship.

Crockery recovered from the Titanic, complete with White Star Line logos

Here, the story for me was brought to life, with hundreds of parts of the ship, cutlery, crockery, clothing, passengers belongings and jewellery that had been brought to the surface from the wreck.

Someones specs

The most amazing parts for me were the scores of portholes, window frames and huge metal parts of the ship’s structure that had been brought up from the sea bed.

Huge metal bollards that once tied the Titanic to her berth

To look at parts, along with an explanation of what role it had within the ship, really put things into perspective. But to know that the windows had been looked through by passengers on that ill fated liner, or that the chef’s overalls had been worn to prepare dinner before he went off duty that night – and ultimately lost his life – was really poignant.

Chef's jacket. He didn't survive.

It was done really well, and wasn’t in any way ghoulish or morbid. Sections of the museum were laid out as if it was parts of the ship, including first class cabins and bathrooms, and an excellent reconstruction of an outside deck.

Recovered baggage label showing Canute Road address, where I lived in Southampton

I never thought I would see parts of the Titanic just a few millimetres away from my face, but thanks to a visit to Singapore, it was just one more pleasant surprise in a very surprising change of direction for the republic.

Sadly, after just 35 hours, I had to leave – my flight to Krabi checks in at 4am – and after arriving back at the hostel at 1am, decided not to go to bed for fear of not waking up in time. Instead, I packed my bags and headed straight to the airport. Tonight will be an ‘all nighter’ and i’ll probably pay the price tomorrow, but at least I won’t miss my plane!

No sleep, but at least I didn't miss it!

I was so pleased I had crammed so much into so little time. It made me realise how Singapore has definitely put itself back on my map as a place to visit again. You might need buckets of cash and a brolly to protect you from the tropical rains from time to time, but instead of a city break or Oz stopover, Singapore is rapidly becoming a holiday destination in its own right.

Feeling Krabi for a few days

Time was running out – with just days to go before my visa expired in Thailand, I was heading south towards the border. I’d still not made up my mind exactly how, or where, I was going to leave the country, but Burma was out of the question to the north and so there was only one way I could go.

My overnight train from Chiang Mai was extremely comfortable – the lower bunks are almost as big as a double bed and well worth the £2 extra cost over the upper bunks. You’re not in private cabins, but instead everyone has a curtain along the carriage, and by 10pm most people are catching zeds.

Most people except for me – I’d just had an email on my phone from one of my housemates back home. The boiler had broken. Cue a mild panic. I was in the middle of northern Thailand, passing through the wilderness on a sleeper train, and with the time difference I knew I had to act quickly to get the problem sorted out. My plumber back home had changed his number, and so I was on the phone to my parents asking them to search for him on the internet.

Thanks to the wonders of mobile data, I managed to get an appeal out on Facebook for a decent plumber that wouldn’t rip me off, and thankfully had a couple of replies came that could help me out. I then decided to call my housemates after finding their mobile number. After a 10 minute broken conversation as the reception dropped in and out, I’d worked out that the pressure had dropped and was a simple case of turning a small tap to top it up. Having had nightmare thoughts of needing to get an expensive new boiler installed from afar, I breathed a sigh of relief that it was a simple and free fix, and slept well all the way through to Ayuthuya, just north of Bangkok.

A quickly grabbed shot of the flooding outside

Outside, more evidence that the flooding of previous months was still causing problems. The waters had dropped in most places, but all along roads were people’s belongings and furniture, thrown out of flooded homes and either being burnt or collected by teams of recovery workers. The train passed the city’s former airport, Don Muang, which had been used as a refuge for weeks, although much of that too had been under water. It was now empty and no doubt heading for demolition. Walls on buildings alongside the tracks had clear watermarks high above windows and doors in some places. I was amazed life was somehow still going on so soon after the devastation – there had been at least six feet of water in many places, and the railway would have been well covered. Its been an incredible recovery.

Flood-damaged belongings being collected

Arriving into Bangkok, I still didn’t know whether to stay for a few nights to enjoy the city and then make a dash for a border, or whether to head to Kanchanaburi to the west, where the bridge over the River Kwai is located. I headed with all my bags to a coffee shop near the MBK shopping centre, the same place I had spent the evening when I first arrived in the city before my tour started. I knew the internet was fast, and the food was pretty good.

My train from the north after arriving in Bangkok

Logging onto Facebook, I saw that a few tour mates were still in the south – Alissa, Emma and Steven. Alissa was heading from Phi Phi to Krabi, while Emma and Steven were contemplating Railay beach. I dropped them a message to ask if they were going to be in the area for a few days, and it turned out they were. I quite fancied a bit of time on the beach, and so my decision was made. I wouldn’t have had enough time on my visa to stay for the time needed in Kanchanaburi, and I’d be coming back to Bangkok before my onward flight, so I checked the rail times and saw there was a night train to Surat Thani at 7.30pm.

I headed back to Hualamphong station and asked at the desk. I was pointed to a screen that showed one bed remaining. I immediately agreed to take it, upon which the cashier said something to me in Thai with a look on her face which told me she needed an answer again. So I repeated that I would take it again and nodded, handing over the equivalent of about £10. I was happy to be travelling that night, and at a good price.

Another ticket to ride

By now it was 4pm, and I contemplated heading to a huge weekend market, but deciding it was too far away I set up camp with my laptop in the station, bought some wifi and uploaded some blog. Occasionally I’d get talking to some of the locals who would sit near me for a while, taking an interest in what I was doing and the places I had been to. Suddenly their eyes would light up when I told them how I’d found myself in Bangkok after listing the countries I’d travelled through, asking questions like ‘what is Russia like’ and ‘what does snow feel like’. The Thai people are so friendly, always speaking to you with a big smile and making you feel so welcome in their country. It’s part of the reason why I love their culture so much.

There was also another quirk at 6pm – the daily national anthem. I first heard this in Pai, at 8am every day, waking us all up. It’s quite a merry little anthem, and the Thai’s are so proud of their country, that its played publicly twice a day – and everyone has to pay their respects. Bang on 6pm at the station, every police officer blew their whistle, the Thai flag appeared on all the screens, and everyone stood and observed it. Its actually quite a spectacle – and quite heartwarming to see so many foreign visitors standing side by side with the smiling Thais and respecting its importance just as much as those who live here.

Thai national anthem time

Soon it was time to grab some snacks and head to the platform. It was the next one along from the one I had pulled into some nine hours before.

Leaving Bangkok...again!

I was in carriage nine, and began my walk along the side of the train and all the well maintained and inviting air conditioned carriages. Carriage 13. Carriage 12. Carriage 11. Still the glazed, brightly lit carriages went on, with everyone inside settling in for their comfortable ride.

Carriage 10…and then the posh carriages stopped. Carriage 9. What on earth is that?!

It was like something out of the third world. Surely there’s been some sort of mistake. It hasn’t even got windows, just holes where the glazing should be. It looked tatty and tired. And there’s a train man waving at me to check my ticket. He nodded and motioned to me to get on. The green décor wasn’t particularly to my taste, neither was the sharp metal edges around the patched up walls immediately adjacent to my seat-cum-bed. There was a window buried within the wall somehow, but it wouldn’t stay up.

Not the best. Blogging kept my mind of the bites...

It soon dawned on me what the woman said in Thai at the ticket desk – probably after something along the lines of ‘you’re a foreigner and you really want to rough it in there?’ was the advice that it was a non-air conditioned carriage. The air conditioning was provided by the open windows and a series of pointless fans.

I decided to make the best of a bad job and settled in for the night to do some writing. The carriage attendant made my bed and I tried to shut out the conditions around me. It wasn’t that bad, but I’d been looking forward to a good sleep. Instead, with a strange metal shutter covering most of the window, it was effectively open to the elements. And mosquitos – a hungry swarm of which made a beeline for my obviously very tasty ankles while I was asleep. Oh, and that was the sleep I managed to grab inbetween every passing train that thundered past within a few feet of my head all through the night.

Arriving in Surat Thani

I arrived in Surat Thani, one of the main transport hubs in Thailand, and found my bus to Krabi. I promptly fell asleep and slept like a log most of the way to Krabi Town, where I was ushered into a minibus to Ao Nang. I found some digs for 400 Baht a night (£8) and then found Steven and Emma on the promenade about to get on a longtail boat to Railay. I joined them, and had a great few hours catching up on each others’ travels and stories.

On the way to Railay

We met Alissa later that day and we all went out for dinner at a good Indian restaurant we found on the main strip, followed by drinks, pool and a fire show in the main centre.

The following day I moved into the same hotel as all three of them, sharing a room with Alissa. It worked out cheaper than the place I had been staying at Bernie’s Place, recommended in my Lonely Planet, and I have to say it was much nicer. It had air conditioning, a private bathroom, even a television. They’re already seeming like luxury!

Ho ho ho!

We had a lot of fun on the beach – Steven brought a pit-pat set so we tried to see how much of a rally we could get going between us, while I’d come equipped with a Father Christmas hat with the festive season now well and truly upon us. It provided the ‘must have’ but slightly clichéd photos of spending Christmas on a beach, but I didn’t care. It put a few smiles on people’s faces too, especially when I kept it on while going for a swim, complete with flashing stars on the front!

With Steven. Santa probably doesn't have quite the same t-shirt tan.

Alissa and I went in search of budget accommodation in the area, as we’re both considering spending some time here after New Year. We found some bungalows nestled at the foot of the limestone cliffs near Railay East beach, and they are in a much more backpacker friendly price range than the top end tourist resorts just a few hundred metres away on the west beach.

Alissa, Emm, Steven and I, along with DVD and nibbles!

After a quiet night in with a DVD and a few games of cards, we had to be up early the following morning. Steven, Emma and I were picked up at 6am by different taxis. They were heading to Koh Samui to visit Dirk, also from our tour, who has somehow ended up in hospital. I was heading out of the country, to Malaysia, as my visa run continued, and I’d decided to spend Christmas at a nice looking hostel I’d found in the capital.

My journey took me to the south of Thailand, an area the tourist guides warn you to be careful in after a spate of bombings and attacks due to some political unrest in a few states. I had to pick my route carefully, but as long as I kept moving I was supposed to be okay. I headed to Hat Yai, where I knew I could catch a direct train to Kuala Lumpur. The weather turned and it began to pour with rain. After four hours of driving, I was dropped off at the railway station, where I was promptly told the train to Kuala Lumpur was full.

I began to worry. My visa expires at midnight, and the ticket desk was telling me there was no way out of the country until the following day. I sought refuge in a coffee shop to raid their free wifi over lunch and try to work out what to do.

In the end, I found there was another train to the border town of Pedang Besar. I asked if there was a way I could get across the border that day. There were shrugs of shoulders and a general lack of interest in my plight.

Next to the Orient Express.

There was one highlight however – as I boarded the train, there was a flurry of excitement from both those on the platform and on the train.

The Orient Express has just pulled in alongside us, complete with all its gold trim, sun deck carriage and plush interior. I took a few photos, and a tourist in the end carriage of the famous train was doing the same as me. We waved to each other and smiled as I trundled down the tracks past him and his £10,000 rail ticket!

Posh train

One thing I would have quite gladly paid the £10,000 price tag for though would to have been sat far away from an Italian man who wanted to become my best friend on the short ride to the border. He was the sort of man who snarled when he speaks. There was a snarl when I told him I was from England (‘expensive and rude’ apparently) there was a snarl when I told him I was heading to Kuala Lumpur for Christmas (‘why would I want to stay in a city like that’, apparently) and there was a snarl when I told him that I still had a few hours on my visa (‘they never check, and if they do, you pay a few Baht’, apparently)

Sun deck carriage with the waving man as we pull out of Hat Yai

He was a know-all, eager to impress how he’s been travelling for years. He saw that I had been eating some chewy fruit sweets, and I nearly snarled myself when he abrubtly insisted ‘do you have one for me’.

Admittedly, anyone else who I wanted to be talking to, I’d have offered one straight away anyway, but there was something creepy about him. He was older than me, about 50ish, and just seemed to moan a lot about Thailand and Malaysia. I was down to my last sweet.

“Sure, its my last one though,” I said, expecting him to withdraw his request.

“Ok,” he said, holding his grubby hands out. I threw it across the aisle to him and then tried to avoid contact until we arrived at Pedang Besar. He’s already told me he didn’t have an onward ticket across the border either, but there was no way I was joining ranks with him. I went out to look after myself.

Thankfully, the station falls within Malaysia, so I’d made it out of Thailand in time. I went through immigration, got stamped out and made my way to the ticket window.

“Sorry, train full,” came the reply to my request for a train to KL.

“When’s the next train?” I asked

“Tomorrow night,” came the unhelpful reply.

Great. I’m stuck in this border town, with nothing in the way of hotels or attractions, and quite probably with a really annoying and selfish Italian bloke for company.

“Is there a bus from here,” I asked, with a pleading look on my face.

“No, no bus,” said the lady.

“Is there anything I can do,” I asked, starting to plead for help. The lady looked at me, looked around me, and then moved closer.

“How many of you, is it just you?” she whispered.

“Yes,” I whispered back.

Then she shut the window and disappeared behind a screen in the direction of the train. Five minutes later she returned.

“Carriage five. Speak to the conductor. He knows, you’ll be ok but don’t tell anyone,” she whispers again.

I whispered thankyou back and gave her a huge smile, which she returned as she watched me head down the platform. I don’t really know what the deal is – it’s a huge train and there’s not that many people waiting to get on it. And then I see the Italian guy talking to the train officials. I turn away and hope he doesn’t see me. Then there’s a tap on my shoulder.

“How do you have ticket? I have no ticket. How are you getting on train.”

It’s the Italian guy alright.

“You should help me. You have got your ticket. I want to know why. Why didn’t you tell her about me,” he babbles at me like some sort of spoilt brat.

“I just, erm, I went to speak to her,” I reply.

“Well, you could have helped me too, you British are all the same.”

It made my blood boil. I’ve not lost my temper once on this trip, but he’d infuriated me. And he ate my last chewy sweet. I kept my anger to a hushed but firm reply.

“Look mate, I’m here on my own, I’m looking after myself. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. I’ve managed to get on it by being nice and talking to the lady at the window. I’m sure if you do the same you’ll be helped out.”

He headed off without a word. I walked to the train and into the carriage as instructed. I gave a knowing nod to the carriage attendant as he asked for my ticket.

“You need a ticket, the train is full,” he tells me.

I gave another knowing nod, I think I might even have winked a bit. But he had a blank face. I mentioned about the lady at the ticket office, and mid-flow another conductor arrives at the scene. He gives me a knowing nod and sits me down. It was all very perculiar!

Somehow the Italian bloke made it onto the train and plonked himself across the aisle from me. He muttered about how he appreciated the advice about speaking to the ticket office, but it was far from an apology. I kept my head down in a book or writing my blog as darkness fell and we headed south through Malaysia. The conductor took the money from me for my ticket – about £10, and handed me a slip of paper. I think it was above board.

It was great that I had a seat, but it was far from a sleeper carriage like I had been expecting. I tried to get comfortable to grab some sleep but it was hard. In the end I got my sleeping bag out and wedged myself against the window. The lights were bright and I drifted in and out of sleep. In the early hours, I briefly woke to see the Italian bloke getting his stuff together – he was getting off halfway between the border and KL. I breathed a sigh of relief, and made sure I kept my eyes closed. I couldn’t be bothered to say goodbye.

‘Bang bang bang bang’

There’s knocking at the window. It wakes me up. I’m the last one on the train. I’ve arrived in Kuala Lumpur.

Early morning arrival in Kuala Lumpur

Fun with the elephants in Pai

Road trip time. A phrase that normally puts a smile on my face – time with friends, out in the big wide world, laughing and joking and usually going somewhere fun.

All the above applies here, but this wasn’t a comfortable swanny down the M1 to Alton Towers in the car. It wasn’t even going to be in a proper chair. Infact, it didn’t even involve four wheels. There were two. And an engine. And a seat that I keep sliding down on. For five hours.

Have two wheels (and a decent helmet), will travel

The furthest I’ve ever travelled on a motorbike before was down a coast road in Cyprus for 10 minutes with my brother on the back. This was a whole new ball game. Pai is a small town in the northern mountains, pretty much as close to Burma as I can get before the authorities kick me back into Thailand for being a journalist. Its 150km away from Chiang Mai, where I’m renting my little Honda scooter for the princely sum of £4 a day. I say little, but its actually 150cc – hardly a Harley, but for a novice like me, it half fills me with fear, half with excitement.

Erin and Bryce lead the way, Krys and Liz follow

I didn’t sell my ticket to Bangkok. My hand scrawled ad on the blackboard winks at me as I walk past with all my rucksack and belongings that were to stay in Chiang Mai on their own for a few days. We’d grabbed a few changes of clothes and found all manner of ways to cram them in and around the scooters, and at 1pm, we were ready to leave.

There were three bikes to go in convoy – the North American alliance of Canadian Bryce and American Erin on one, Australian duo Krys and Liz on another – Liz who had only arrived the night before and somehow got talked into joining us on the crazy trip – and lonely me who was to fly solo for the journey.

With routes checked and cross-checked on our Iphones, it was fairly simple. Straight on at the big lights, go for a kilometre or so, turn left at the hospital. We managed the ‘straight on at the big lights’ bit, but then it all went wrong. Mainly as Krys was in the lead and shot straight past the left turn near the hospital. I headed left. Bryce and Erin shot off into the distance in pursuit of the wayward Aussies.

Thankfully Bryce and I have Thai phones, so we co-ordinated a rendezvous point and after about half an hour, we were back on our way.

Fun on two wheels

It was my first proper experience of riding a motorbike, and despite all the worries, concerns, advice to be careful, thoughts of expensive medical bills and various encounters with people covered in scars and scabs from motorbike mishaps, I was finding it a lot of fun.

We’d rented some pretty decent scooters. They were good quality, relatively new and rode really well. After carefully starting off and winding my way through the traffic near the hostel, the roads opened up and we cruised along at a steady 45 to 50kmh. Eventually we met a turn off we needed north, the roads got quieter, and all of our confidence was picking up. Even Krys, who somehow wobbled his way out of the city without missing any more turns.

Bryce set himself out as a pace setter, leading the way and generally looking much cooler on a bike with Erin than I ever will. Nevertheless, I had a weight advantage, and on a particularly long, open, empty downhill part of the road, decided it was time to see exactly what the scooter could do. It’s a similar thing to what you always do when you get a new car – wait for a relatively safe bit of road, and then open up the engine. In much the same way that puts a smile on your face, so did this, and I shot past them both, feeling a very cheesey grin on my face, and loving the feeling of the warm wind in my face as the sun was beating down on us. It was great fun, and much easier than I anticipated.

Time for a breather

As we were all riding along at different speeds, and due to traffic through the many villages we passed through, we’d all get split up from time to time. Every half an hour whoever was in front would stop and wait for the others. After a couple of hours, our heads were sore from the helmets, and our backsides were numb, so we stopped for a while in a little village at the foot of the mountains we were about to climb. We knew we had to reach Pai by nightfall, mainly as the town is in a valley and we’d been warned to be off the mountain before it gets dark. We’d worked out that it was already 4pm and cutting it fine. The sun would be setting in an hour and a half, and we were still at least two hours away. Then along came a familiar face – it was Kit, one of the guys who runs the Spicy Thai hostel in Chiang Mai, and he was on his motorbike heading to Pai and the sister hostel with some supplies.

Filling up at the service station

Kit said he’d show us the way to the hostel, but said we’d need to fill up with fuel as the mountains can catch you out. He also said we needed to hurry up – so we asked one of the locals to fill us up with her roadside pump. I say pump, it was just a barrel of petrol with a measuring bottle attached which then lets the gas run into the nozzle. After paying just over £1 each, we were all topped up and on our way, winding our way up through the dozens of hairpin bends, looking down over huge swathes of jungle, watching the sun set and feeling the temperature plummet the higher we got.

Eventually we reached an army checkpoint at the top of the mountain. By now, it was getting dark and increasingly cold – our teeth were starting to chatter as the much cooler wind blew into our faces. While a change of clothes had helped, it still wasn’t enough.

Much of the last leg, thankfully, was downhill, although parts of the road were broken up or washed away by heavy rains. In the distance, the twinkly lights of Pai, and all four bikes rode in convoy up the gravel path to the Spicy Pai hostel. We’d made it – it took hours of riding, but what an adventure. It certainly beats the bus, along with all its relaxing chairs and air conditioned comfort – and it made us all feel like we’d achieved something. Taking our helmets off and checking in, we were the latest ‘pilgrims’ to make it to Pai on motorbikes, and there were some very familiar faces waiting to say hello to us in the dorms who we’d met in Chiang Mai. It meant we already felt at home – and what a strange home it was.

My first reaction got a laugh:

“Where are the walls?!” I said, searching for the last remaining spare bed in the dorm.

“It gets bloody cold at night,” came a voice from behind a mosquito net.

Made it in one piece

It was effectively a barn – an open one at that – but at least it had a roof of sorts made from leaves. Outside, raised bamboo walkways lead you to the toilet block (open to the elements) the communal area (open to the elements) and a neighbouring dorm (open…yep, you get the picture)

One of the dorms

All around was running water. We were in the middle of a paddy field, and I was in a bed that was a bit like being in a tree house. As bizarre as it was, it was just as exciting to stay in, and knew the next few days would be a good laugh. Bryce and Erin managed to bag a luxury villa. It had walls and everything. Amazing what luxuries you can live without if you put your mind to it – but for about £1.80 a night, I wasn’t complaining!

Paddy fields and pillows

We headed out for dinner at the Curry Shack and met up with Laura, a lovely girl from Birmingham who’s travelling for a while. She’d left Spicy Thai just before us and was part of the group who went to the zoo together. The Curry Shack was exactly that – one bloke, one shack, some herbs and spices and far from enough pots and pans. So much so, he came to tell us he couldn’t make anything for a while as he’d used all his pans and plates up.

Curry Shack...there wasn't enough brown rice for us all, hence two tones!

Bryce and I set out on a hunter-gatherer mission, in a vain search for popadoms. Instead we found samosas on a street stall, so stocked up and took them to the waiting table with a few large Chang’s from a local shop. Curry Shack man wasn’t happy – we thought he’d given us the nod to go sort ourselves out for a while before he cooked for us, but the noise of our beers hitting the table from elsewhere I think put his nose out a little. It turned out the samosas were filled with some sort of weird sweet filling anyway, and we made up for our faux pas by tipping him really well – and it put a huge smile on his face. After all, the curry was incredible, despite the fact he also ran out of rice, and incredibly cheap.

Random grafitti man in Pai

That night, it was “bloody cold”. I slept in my oversized hoody, jeans, two blankets, and still I was freezing. The morning walk along the bamboo path, jumping over muddy patches and being careful not to fall into the paddy field water on the way to the toilet block was definitely different! I met Erin and Bryce in the communal area. Apparently they were cold at night too. And they had walls and a solid roof.

Interesting breakfast menu...

The beauty of having transport is that you can really explore the area you’re in. After breakfast in the main street, we headed off on the scooters to find waterfalls. Pai is located in a near picture perfect valley. You wake up with mountains all around – it’s a bit like a ski resort town, but in the sun and without the ski lifts. There’s plenty of water too, and at Pambok Waterfalls we enjoyed cooling off in the crystal clear water along with the obligatory photo opportunity.

Pambok waterfall and gang

We headed off back to the hostel as the sun was setting, and already the temperature was dropping. The altitude of the town, along with the fact we were quite far north, means that the moment the sun goes its time to reach for a jumper. I wasn’t expecting to have to wear jeans and a hoody in Thailand, but I was glad I’d taken the advice of people at Spicy Thai and packed them.

It was still cold the following morning, and I woke up to see fog everywhere. We’d booked an elephant trek through the countryside, and I was worried we’d only see as far as a huge elephant backside in front if the fog didn’t lift. Thankfully it did, and we arrived at Thoms elephant home to find four elephants happily chewing on bananas and sugar cane. I’ve seen elephants in zoos as a kid, but its something else to be up so close and personal to one. One of the staff gave me a bunch of bananas and told me to hold them behind my back, and as I moved closer to the animal, its huge trunk wrapped around me as he went in search of the fruit in my hand.

Beautiful

They are incredibly huge, but surprisingly gentle. Its easy to be wary at first, as it feels so strange to be up so close to something so big, so heavy, and to the untrained eye, so unpredictable. Its massive feet could do some serious damage if you got in the wrong place, but I could tell these were amazingly intelligent animals too. I could see their eyes moving and watching me as I moved closer with yet another bunch of cane leaves. Beautiful.

I was allocated Ot, a 30 year old female, and Liz was also to ride with me. The first problem was trying to get on, especially for those who were a bit more vertically challenged than I am. Laura struggled a little, but it was amazing to watch how the elephant would lift its leg to form a step for her to stand on. Next it was my turn, and it felt strange being told to hang onto Ot’s ear and then pull myself up with a rope holding the matting onto her back. Ot moved her leg into a step position for me, I stood on it and with a bit of effort, managed to haul myself onboard.

With Liz on Ot in the countryside around Pai

First impressions – prickly, and incredibly boney!

There was a huge lump at the back, part of Ot’s spine, that sticks up right in the place where I was to sit for the two hour trek. I pulled Liz up too, and she sat in front of me, and with a shout from the mahout, Ot took her first lurching step out towards the road.

Going downill and clinging on!

With every step, the huge lump underneath me moved. Its far different to riding a horse – your legs are forced much wider apart, almost uncomfortably so – the elephant’s skin is hard and covered with prickly hairs that rub on your legs. But it was a great experience, and the scenery as the sun came out was fantastic.

Prickly!

We walked along a trail into the countryside. Every now and then, one of the elephants would spot something it wanted to eat at the side of the trail, grab it with its trunk and pull it out of the ground. Sometimes they’d spend too long trying to eat, and get a shout from the mahout riding on top. It was usually with a smile, and eventually we arrived at a river. We knew we were getting close, as the elephants got excited and started to walk faster. It was obviously a part of their day they loved.

Going...

We clung onto the rope and the matting as Ot stepped into the water before lowering herself down. Then, with a big swing of her trunk, she flung water all over us. It was brilliant – and a much needed cooling off for us and her as the sun started to burn.

...going...

Next the mahout shouted something, and suddenly Ot turned into a bucking bronco. Liz went straight away, down into the water below, while I managed to cling on. Then, with a particularly strong shake, I couldn’t hold on any longer and got thrown into the river. I swear when I resurfaced I looked into her eye and there was a cheeky glint in it!

Gone! And bathtime!

Ot was swishing her trunk around trying to cover herself with more water, so Liz and I gave her a hand, splashing and pouring water all over her head and back and giving her a rub and a bath. It was clear Ot loved it, blowing bubbles in the flowing river and treating us to a spray of our own with her trunk every minute or so.

Another facefull

The mahout beckoned me back on, and as soon as I was back on, there was more trunk spraying and shaking off. I think it was as much fun for us as it was for the animals.

After 20 minutes of playing with the elephants in the river, it was time to head back. We treated Ot to more handfuls of bananas and cane leaves when we got back, while we got treated to chicken and rice as we watched the elephants have their lunch.

Heading off

Drenched, but the smiles say it all!

We met a couple from Singapore who were touring southeast Asia on a motorbike – they seemed amazed that we’d tackled such a long trip on mopeds, and we swapped traveller tales over lunch.

Swapping biker stories over a big map!

That afternoon, as part of the day, we had a bamboo raft ride along the river for a few hours, before heading back to the elephant camp and saying our farewells to the animals. It had been a great day out, and we finished it off by watching the sun set over a nearby canyon.

Pai Canyon

With Liz, Erin and Bryce as the sun sets

That night was our last night together as a group. Laura was heading off to nearby Laos the following day, so we decided to head into town for dinner.

Scruffy and co...our friends in Pai

About halfway along the 15 minute walk, we were spotted and followed by Scruffy, a dog who had become a regular sight around the hostel. Nobody seemed to know whether he lived there or not, but he had a collar and he was called Scruffy for obvious reasons.

Most of the time he could be found relaxing around the paddy field or seeking strokes and attention in the communal area from fellow travellers, but somehow he would recognise the people he knew in the middle of the town. We’d been followed by him a couple of times, and he’d happily sit by us as we all ate before walking with us back to the hostel. A few little bits of chicken off a plate thrown in his direction every now and then kept him more than happy.

Scruffy

Suddenly, halfway down the main walking street, all hell breaks lose. A black and white dog appears from nowhere, attacks Scruffy and his mate, and somehow Scruffy came off worse. We saw him limping away. Erin was upset, and I felt sad that perhaps he’d followed us too far, into another dog’s territory, and got hurt.

We ordered dinner but we were slightly muted. I think we all had a bit of concern for poor old Scruffy, when suddenly Erin spots a familiar sight outside the restaurant. It was him – and somehow he knew where we were and was waiting for us! Erin went to see him and he followed her back in, complete with his limp. We treated him to a full plate of sausages, and he sat with us and walked with us for the rest of the night.

Scruffy even watched as we set off two Chinese lanterns into the night sky. It was a bit of a celebration of the brilliant week we’d all had together. We’d gone from complete strangers to being really close friends in such a short space of time, and it was sad that soon our time together would end.

Saying goodbye to Laura

We said a few words and wished each other well for our onward travels as the lanterns rose high into the brilliantly dark night sky. And as the lanterns rose, we saw shooting stars everywhere. There was a meteor shower that night, and we had perfect conditions to see it. Every few moments we’d all see another bright light streak across the sky, as our lanterns disappeared high above us. It was almost magical.