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.

The sun sets over the Mekong, and on my tour

Rope swings and I have fallen out.

Just a couple of days after a self-induced faceplant on the surface of a Laos river, thanks to a souped-up member of the rope swing world, today I managed to damage my hand after another go on a pendulum play-thing.

This time, it was purely an old-fashioned knotted rope tied to a tree over one of the most stunningly blue waterfall lagoons I’ve ever seen.

With Dirk at the waterfalls

Ricky, Alissa and I had taken a trip to see the Kuang Sii waterfalls near Luang Prabang, a half hour ride away from the town, and after little sleep the night before from the overnight journey, a dip in the pool to wake us up was definitely needed.

The rope swing platform was a huge tree that leans over the water, and the way up was by clambering over its slippery roots and using a hooked stick to grab the rope. My first attempt was great, and like the tubing, good fun. My second attempt wasn’t so good – mainly as I accidentally wrapped the knotted rope around the wrong hand, the one that was to take my weight.

The result: having just gallantly got the rope for two good looking girls in front of me, who were now watching from the side, I stepped off the tree, the rope tightened around my hand, some knots whipped around it and took off some skin, and I clumsily dropped into the water in a heap.

Dirk was on hand with my camera to capture the unfortunate, and painful, moment. The girls had disappeared.

Pillock.

The waterfalls area is also home to a bear sanctuary, most of which were chilling out underneath the jungle canopy. A couple of them were enjoying some time out in some specially-made hammocks, the only thing I think they needed to complete the relaxed picture was a bear beer.

Bud - weis - errr

That night was our last night in a main town – the next two days will be spent on the Mekong River on a slow boat north to the Thai border. Ricky was preparing to leave the group, as he is meeting a friend in Chiang Mai, and so it was our last night all together on the tour.

Being 'chef'

We went to a fantastic barbecue restaurant, where the barbecue comes to you. It’s a typical southeast Asia way of barbecuing, where a small bucket of coals are brought to the table and topped off with a metal tray and what looks like and upside down colander. Soup is poured around the base, which is then filled with noodles and fresh vegetables, while a tray of meat is brought out to cook on the top.

A few of us shared chicken, pork and water buffalo – it’s quite a popular meat around Laos, probably because there are so many of them, and I have to say its incredibly nice. It’s like a lean beef, and the bits we had were lovely and tender, so much so that we ordered more. Our tour leader Fon was in good spirits too, possibly because she knew she wasn’t far from her native home, but probably because she knew within a few days she will be free of us!

Fon and a plant

After a walk around the night market, everyone went to bed early as it was an early start in the morning, with a short trip down to the river at 7am to catch the boat back to Thailand.

A wave from everyone. Well, almost everyone...

We piled onto a tuk tuk, and I said farewell to Ricky who was moving on to meet his friend at the airport. He’d been umming and ahhing about whether to complete the tour by taking the boat trip with us all, but decided it was cutting it too fine to get to the airport in time.

I knew Ricky would be on the boat with us!

Goodbyes done, I got onto the tuk tuk – only to turn around and see Ricky marching out of the hotel with his backpack and a smile on his face. He’d changed his mind after Fon told him about a bus service from the Thai border he could catch. I pretended to mop up my tears and told him he wouldn’t be getting another manly hug when he left us for a second time!

There are two options for getting back up the Mekong to the border point, and we’re taking the slower, safer one. The other is to take a speedboat service, but that is seen to be incredibly dangerous. The river is peppered with rocky outcrops that threaten to stand in the way of even the most careful of speedboat drivers. The fact only the driver gets a crash helmet wouldn’t fill me with confidence either.

Getting onto the slow boat

A few on the tour were not looking forward to the boat ride, seeing it as two days trapped on a vessel. I saw it as two days to relax amid incredible scenery, and in the end that was the opinion that came out on top. It sounds a lot to spend two days on a boat, but with a combination of good banter, a blog to catch up on and a great game of cards, the time soon flew by.

Poker on the boat

Our guide Fon was outed as a bit of a poker shark when we enticed her into a game. My cotton bud chips came out to play again, and we even taught the boat guide how to play a hand. The entire first afternoon was passed playing cards, gently bobbing around on the Mekong, drifting past lush green mountains, herds of wild water buffalo bathing in the waters and children waving on mounds of sand at the boat full of foreigners waving back.

Tasty...

As the sun began to set, we stopped in a small town for the night. There are no navigation lights on the boats, and I guess the river is too dangerous to sail at night due to the rocks dotted all over the surface of the Mekong, so it provided an opportunity to stock up on snacks and food for the next day.

Thailand-bound

After a very short sleep, it was 5am and time to catch the boat again before we knew it. We’d been warned it would be an early start, necessary to get us to the Thai border before it either closed or started charging more after a certain time.

Early and cold!

With sleeping bags at the ready, we piled back onto the boat in the dead of night and found a spot to make a bed.

Zzzzz

Mine was a part of the floor near a step, in the hope people wouldn’t stand on me. It was extremely chilly, and I was glad to have a nice warm sleeping bag I could curl up in, and combined with the gentle rocking of the boat and the constant noise of the engine and the water, I was soon back asleep again, as was everyone else in the group. Infact, it was a very quiet morning as people caught up on sleep, although I managed to wake up and catch up on some blogging.

Snooze boat

It was yet another fantastically hot and sunny day, perfect weather for cruising down the river. Everyone was in good spirits, although there was the knowledge that within a couple of days, the tour would be over and everyone would go their separate ways.

Beautiful

I’m already thinking about what to do afterwards, as its become clear that the tour will only be in Chiang Mai, Thailand’s second biggest city, for a grand total of four hours. Its been timed so that the group reaches the northern city at lunchtime, and is then booked onto the train back to Bangkok at 5.55pm that night. Considering so many people have told me good things about the place, Ive decided that I will leave the tour there and make my own way back south. I had planned to visit the north, and it made sense to stay there rather than finish the tour and then travel back north. Fon agreed – its something quite a few people have done, and Canadian Alissa agreed to do the same with me.

As we approached the border crossing at Chiang Kong, we were sailing up no-mans land. On our right, Laos, which had been our home for the past week. On our left, Thailand, which was to be my home for at least the next few weeks. As the river forms the border, it’s a slightly unusual procedure with the passports as when you’ve got your exit stamp from Laos, you have to get a longtail boat across the river to Thailand, where you get an entry stamp.

Speedboat border crossing

We said yet another goodbye to Ricky at the border, who this time definitely was leaving us to meet his friend. Now there were just nine of us, although the German couple had decided they didn’t want to associate with us anymore (apparently, it was to do with a couple of us being five minutes late for dinner one night) and so their end of the table was distinctly mute. Dinner was something we’d all been waiting for – a lovely Thai green curry and rice, and it had definitely been worth waiting for.

Goodbye Laos

The rest of the group had decided they wanted to leave the border town at 6am in the morning, to maximise time in Chiang Mai. For me, what time I left wasn’t an issue, but despite the early start, I wasn’t going to complain – I would probably want to do the same. I hardly slept during the night however, and when my alarm went off at 5.30am, I felt shattered. Thankfully, I managed to bag the back seat of the minibus, so I was able to stretch out and sleep a bit more.

I woke up to hear the driver saying: “Wakey wakey, temple,”

It was 8am, and having seen a fair few temples in the past few weeks, the thought of another didn’t fill me with the joys of spring. But then I saw it.

The White Temple - incredible

It was like something out of a film, a magical place from somewhere like Snow White or Narnia. The White Temple near Chiang Rai was for me, one of those places that takes your breath away. I couldn’t stop looking at the gleaming white construction, glinting away as the early morning sunshine tried to break through the clouds and reflect off the millions of tiny mirror pieces incorporated into the design

Hands reaching for help

I think the element that captured my imagination was the fact it was such a contemporary way of making a temple appeal. Its classed as a piece of art, as well as being a working place of worship.

Aliens!

Its designer and builder is someone from the village, adding to the structure as and when time and money allows. The grounds are filled with anything from gargoyles to aliens, to keep evil spirits away, while a stunning piece of art around the main walkway entrance to the temple sees dozens of hands rising up from underneath the ground, symbolising those who need help in hell. It was all very cleverly done, yet tasteful and still in keeping with the whole place of meaningful worship thing.

Just to the side was a hut selling lucky trinkets, and I saw Fon buy one and hang it on a rail. She told me it’s the luck from the Buddha, and you hang it to bring good fortunes your way. She suggested it would be nice to hang it on a Christmas tree, so I bought one to send home to my parents for their tree. I then started wondering if superstition could kick in, seeing as I’m sending something that’s supposed to bring me luck thousands of miles away. It began eating away at me – I had visions of something bad happening the moment I sent it, so I went back and bought one for myself too!

Superstition won me over

A few hours later it was time for the last group outing, a trip to Tiger Kingdom on the outskirts of Chiang Mai, a place where instead of looking at tigers through a cage, you can go inside with them. Part of me feels a bit uneasy, not just because I could very realistically get eaten, but because I worry about animal welfare in touristy places like zoos and exhibits.

Ah, little kitty!

Having satisfied myself by reading the information booklet that the animals are well cared for, we bought tickets to spend time with both the biggest tigers, and the smallest tigers.

What an incredible animal to get up close to. The handlers told us they were quite placid during the day, as like cats they spend a lot of time sleeping and relaxing during the day. Even so, stepping through a small opening into a cage with four fully grown, and potentially deadly, tigers was an amazing experience. We took it in turns to cuddle and pet the tigers, having photos taken and generally watch in amazement as the tigers enjoyed the fuss, even kicking their legs as they had their belly tickled.

There was one moment when the reality kicked in, as the huge tiger I had my head resting on suddenly moved and swung his paw for a toy one of the keepers was waving near its head. It was enough to make me move equally as quickly, and as the photo proved, I was a little worried about its next move!

Erm, a little unsure!!

The baby tigers, however, were the cutest of all the animals in the park. They were so playful and fun, we could have sat with them all day. Well, we could have done, had they not decided to fall asleep. Like human babies I guess, they have a small amount of play time and then need a large amount of sleep time.

Ahhhh!

That afternoon we had a final lunch together with Fon, the tour leader, before the time finally came to say goodbye. Fon had kindly rearranged my train for Alissa and I, and so we were to stay in Chiang Mai while the rest of the group made their way back south to the starting point of Bangkok. Booked onto the 5.55pm train, we both went with the group to wave them off at the station.

Aw. We'll all miss Fon!

After spending four weeks with Fon and the group, I was sad to be saying goodbye. It was easy to take all Fon’s help, all the pre-arranged coaches, tuk tuks and hotels, and all the good places to eat, for granted. Within minutes I would be back on my own, fending for myself, albeit with my Canadian friend for company. I bought a postcard and wrote a nice message on it for Fon, telling her she’d be welcome to stay at mine if ever she visited the UK, along with a tip from Ricky and I for all her hard work.

Then it was time for a few last photographs with the group beside the train. I knew I would be seeing some of them again on my travels, while others will be returning to their homes in all parts of the world. Considering we had been complete strangers just a few weeks ago, in a funny way it felt like we’d become a bit of a family, all looking out for each other and sharing all the fun times like we had. There were two that didn’t quite blend in – who didn’t even have the politeness to say goodbye, or at least wave goodbye – but that didn’t matter.

Goodbye group!

Would I do an organised tour again? Probably not – it was a bit too much of a rush for my liking. I would have preferred to spend a bit more time in each location, but then that was my choice to try and cram as much in before heading for New Year in Sydney. But then, without doing the tour, I would never have met some of the brilliant people that I have done – and that’s the beauty of something like a Gap Adventure. It was my back-up plan, my escape route if I had travelled for a month without meeting anyone. I knew a tour would put me with people, and there was a fair chance I’d make friends. So to that extent, I did absolutely the right thing. I met some incredibly people and saw some of the most beautiful parts of the world.

Alissa and I running alongside the train!

As Alissa and I ran alongside the train as it pulled out of Chiang Mai station, we both knew for us the tour was over. But the friendships that had been made – and the memories we all have together – will live on.

The tour disappears into the distance

Running for the hills

The award for the most stunning scenery on my trip so far has just gone to Laos.

It had been an incredibly long drive out of Vietnam and into this relatively unknown country, but the morning of our first day revealed exactly why this country is seen very much as a hidden gem in South East Asia.

The greenest jungles densely cover rolling mountains, rivers and streams intertwine through the undergrowth, deep red sands and soil contrast with the blue skies. Tall palm trees tower above the main jungle canopy, while eagles fly above. If a dinosaur suddenly appeared drinking water by a river, it would hardly be a surprise. With minimal human impact, it really does resemble the scenes out of the film Jurassic Park.

We left Vietnam shortly before 7am for the 10-hour drive to the border point. It was an incredibly long drive, but with our much smaller group now, there was plenty of room to spread out on the bus. With us are our new companions, a Canadian called Jaclyn, who works as an addiction counsellor back home, and a German couple. Unfortunately I’ve not yet managed to get their names, as they seem a little reluctant to want to talk to us.

The journey took us through rural life in Vietnam, the cityscape and motorbike mecca of Hanoi turning slowly into rolling paddy fields, jungles and watering holes for a growing number of water buffalo – many of which being used by farmers to haul goods to the market.

There were a few stops on the way, but most of us managed to grab some sleep, especially Ricky who has started entertaining us with his variety of sleeping positions.

We left his banana well alone

Eventually we began to wind our way up some mountain roads and towards the Nampho International Checkpoint, the exit point for Vietnam and the entry point for Laos.

It was a shame to be saying goodbye to Vietnam. After two weeks in the country, it still didn’t feel like enough, that I had only just scratched the surface. There is so much to see and do, particularly regarding its history and conflicts, that it needed at least another two weeks to do it justice. Ho Chi Minh is definitely a city I’ll visit again sometime, and the beaches still need discovering. And besides, when I need a new suit, I’ll just have to pop to Hoi An to see my new tailoring friends!

Crossing into Laos

With border formalities over, it was starting to get dark as we made our way to a guesthouse in a nearby town, but we were rewarded with a particularly beautiful sunset over the mountains.

Beautiful power lines in Laos

The next day was another major travel day to the capital, Vientiane, with hour after hour spent on the bus, driving through spectacular countryside, over glistening rivers and through countless villages made up of old wooden homes on stilts.

On the road again!

We stopped in one such village for a break, and discovered the iced coffee was particularly good, not just because it came in a plastic bag, but because it actually tasted like coffee. A few of us, particularly those of a North American background, are missing the occasional fix of a good brew, and some we’ve tried to drink have been pretty disgusting.

Cost cutting at the local Starbucks

Vientiene was only a short stop, arriving mid afternoon. We saw one of the main landmarks, Patuxai, on the way into the city. I thought it looked familiar – it resembles the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, which I thought was a hark back to the days when France occupied the country, but infact it’s a memorial to those who were killed in liberating the country.

Taken from the bus!

Strangely, it was financed by America and built with concrete that was supposed to have been used for an airfield during the Vietnam war. The Americans then gave the money for a new city airport, but instead the Laos government used the cash and concrete to build the monument – and now its nicknamed the vertical runway!

After so much travelling, and after hearing there wasn’t a great deal to see in the city apart from more temples, I decided to spend a couple of hours relaxing and taking in the atmosphere. Ricky and I enjoyed drinks and a bite to eat at a nearby bakery, and we sat outside as the sun set.

Overtaking a school bus

It was yet another early start the following morning as the tour headed to Vang Vieng, a place well known on the traveller circuit thanks to its river tubing – and river bar –exploits. We arrived around lunch time, and met up with Emma and Megan who had left the tour in Hanoi to continue their own travels. We ate at an organic restaurant before working out what we wanted to do in the afternoon. Fon suggested we visit some caves, but to do that we’d need to hire a bicycle or a moped. With time and our falling energy levels against us, the bicycle option was out, and so we hired some mopeds for about £4.

While I’ve ridden mopeds before, I must admit I’m still a bit wary about getting on one. Its not necessarily my own skills I’m worried about, but those of everyone else who uses the roads here, combined with the fact most are full of potholes and ruts. However, it was the only way to get to where we needed to be, so Dirk, Steven, Ricky and I all hired automatic ones, while Jorg, part of the German couple, hired a manual motorbike as he is the only one with an actual motorbike license back home.

We took the bikes for a test, and while mine felt like all the nuts and bolts needed a good tighten up, and the front wheel was at a bit of a funny angle, it rode quite well. There was no fuel in the tank, so a few of us filled up and then headed back to the hotel. Steven was there collecting things from the room and still needed fuel, so to save time I took his bike. Ricky and I had only just got around the corner when the one I was riding conked out. I started to push it on the half-mile or so walk to the petrol station, before Ricky offered to run with it as a bit of a work out. I then took control of his bike, which also stopped working a minute later.

By now, there were some concerns, but after taking the latest one to die back to the place where we hired it, I was given a water bottle full of petrol which I then ferried back to Ricky. It was a huge faff, but thankfully we were all soon on our way.

Most of us took a passenger with us – Jaclyn joined me for the ride – and with our tour leader Fon’s words of ‘be careful’ ringing through our ears as we left the hotel, the group of us tentatively set off down the road. That’s when disaster struck the German couple, as somehow on a right hand turn Jorg, the only one who officially rides motorbikes back home, managed to plant his front wheel in a pothole and catapulted his girlfriend over the handlebars. There was a lot of concern from all of us as they picked themselves up off the gravel track, though sadly the girl, whose name I cant remember, probably because of the way she wanted very little to do with me, decided to tell us all to stop laughing at her. Of course, we weren’t, but it was a bit of a turning point in relations between them and the group.

Heading to the caves

Shaken but uninjured, they joined us as we carefully made our way along the potholed track to a cave. It cost us 10,000 Laos Kip to visit, and a guide took us through fields towards some imposing limestone cliffs that formed part of all the mountains around us.

Headlamps on, we followed the guide up slippery steps into the hot and humid cave. There were no lights in here, unlike the caves at Ha Long Bay. For me, this was as close to proper caving as I’ve come. The walkway took us through narrow gaps in the rocks, over crevices and around stalactites and stalagmites, beyond which are impressive rock structures and shapes. It took about 10 minutes to reach the end of the train through the rocks and humidity, but it was great fun.

By the time we’d turned around and reached the fresh open air again, we were all dripping with sweat. Thankfully there was a lagoon beneath the cliff, so we all jumped in and had a lot of laughs in a huge waterfight.

The lagoon

The laughs soon came to an end when Steven’s motorbike yet again decided it didn’t want to play ball, just a few metres up the dirt track from the cave. With a good three miles to go before we reached any civilization, we tried desperately to fire up the engine, but it was having none of it. We worked out the battery was flat, but the other bikes only had a battery lead with about four inches of slack. We were about to try turning one bike on its side to try to connect a working battery to Steven’s stranded machine when two locals in a pick-up turned up, and thankfully offered to run said heap of junk (the bike, not Steven!) back to the town.

Despite an offer of some cash by way of thanks, the pick-up driver wasn’t interested – yet another example of how people in this part of the world often go out of their way to help others. Meanwhile, the German couple were quibbling over a demand for five Euros to repair the damage they’d caused to their bike when they crashed. Eyes were rolled.

Friends cafe!

Dinner that night was in one of the many ‘Friends’ bars in the town, a place where people can chill out on comfy laid back seats and watch that American ‘comedy’ that my friends know I’m not a great fan of.

Nom!

It was nice to sit with a Beer Lao and relax though, watching bedraggled people walking by having dropped off their giant inflatable rubber rings at a nearby Tubing store.

Later that night we went to Q Bar in the town, and despite the fact it was relatively early in the night, we found utter carnage! People were covered in permanent pen, in various states of undress, varying levels of drunkenness and many were packed onto a stage dancing the night away, clutching buckets of Laos whisky and coke. It was only about 10pm, but then this is Vang Vieng and the home of Tubing…

Q Bar...this could get messy!

Tomorrow it’s our turn!

A smile from a local in Hoi An

Nha Trang, in the south east of Vietnam, gave us a lot of fun. We arrived tired off the overnight train, but there had been mention of a waterpark nearby. Little did we know it would be one of the biggest water theme parks in Asia!

Arriving at Nha Trang

It had been played down a little by Fon, who told us there was only one slide, and instead was trying to recommend various boat trips. After a bit of searching on the internet, I found the website for Vinpearl resort, complete with all its photographs of waterpark heaven.

It was a bit pricey – about £11 – but it didn’t take long to convince people, and soon there was eleven of us following my slightly childish love of slides and heading to a taxi.

The ski lift to the waterpark

To reach the resort, which is located on an island, you have to take the special chairlift. It’s a familiar design – its actually a Poma ski gondola, but it turns out its also the longest chairlift crossing over water in the world.

A huge cruise ship was parked up in the blue waters nearby, but the theme park was incredibly empty. It meant we could ride and slide to our heart’s content – particular favourites being the huge family raft tube which almost threw us off the side, a kamikaze style steep slide which had cheese-grater style joints which deprived your back of a few layers of skin, and a fairground-style ride that spins you round and upside down.

Scary stuff. The rides were frightening too

A few of the lads had discovered the ride just after lunch, thinking it would be fairly tame. It gave us a bit of a shock – partly as every now and again, while you were barely held in upside down, there was a worrying jolt and a metallic sound which didn’t sound too healthy. It spun you around upside down until most of your blood was in your head, far longer than anything back home, and eventually it brought you back down to earth.

I love theme park rides, and Hull Fair is one of my highlights every year, but there was something about that ride that just did not feel safe. Everyone felt the same, but we decided we’d tell the girls that it was good fun and get them on it at the end of the day.

Potential death trap

It was a decision which could have backfired – it meant we’d have to put our lives in the hands of some dodgy Vietnamese ride technology yet again, but it could also mean we’d lose quite a few friends. As it happens, they all seemed to enjoy it far more than us – Fon our tour leader even shouting for the ride operator to send us up again for another dose!

Thankfully we didn’t, but after a full day of swimming, sliding and a bit of volleyball on the beach, everyone was shattered. We had a few beers at a nearby bar, and then tried, unsuccessfully, to find a late bar, before ending up in a sidestreet place being beckoned in by a big burly Australian.

He told us how he’d moved there having met the love of his life – a picture of him and his Vietnamese wife on their wedding day hangs on the wall – and that while he didn’t make any money, he loved the country and decided to stay. There was a gaggle of older blokes outside, each with their own Vietnamese ‘love of their life’ hanging off their arm. Ricky decided he would tell everyone he was Russian, and occasionally changed from his Yorkshire accent mid way through a sentence while talking to a French bloke. It was amusing, but all a bit odd, and we went for bed.

The next day was spent feeling quite ill. Having been out the night previous, I’d missed taking my anti-malaria tablet so thought it would be a good idea to take it as soon as I remembered the next morning. Big mistake! An hour later, just as I reached a restaurant for brunch, I broke out in a fever and sweats with one of the worst headaches and sickness. It left me feeling washed out for much of the day.

A pretty horrendous journey on an overnight bus (see my previous post!) took us to Hoi An, the silk and tailoring capital of Vietnam.

Cheapest beers ever!

It’s a historic port city, with huge Chinese and French influences and a great deal of history. Its built up around a river, along which boasts some of the cheapest beer in the world. At the equivalent of just 15p, it was rude not to indulge in some, especially as the weather was on the turn.

75p for a round - even I got one in!

The city has around 400 expert tailors, and is famous for its made to measure clothes. Many of the girls were excited about a full day of shopping amid colourful – and I have to say, very impressive – dresses and skirts. After looking around at suits, and finding out I could save a few hundred pounds on a tailored one from the UK by having one made here, I realised it would be stupid not to have one made.

She could have done with a stool...

I shopped around and was quoted around $160 for a suit. At £100 it was still quite a good deal, but I ended up bumping into Dirk who’d just splashed out $220 on two suits and three shirts. He took me to the shop and introduced me to Lu, and demanded she gave me a good deal. I’ve never made a suit from scratch before, and it was strange to be shown all the different fabrics and to have to choose a colour and appearance.

Measuring time

I went for a charcoal grey material, made of a cashmere wool and silk blend, and was quoted $140. I ended up knocking that down to $100, and then getting a tailored shirt thrown in for an extra $10. I was shown some design catalogues, picked the look I wanted and told to come back the following day at 11am for a fitting.

Before I’d left the shop, my material was already being cut and prepared and being laid out on the floor by Lu who was quite possibly one of the bubbliest, friendliest shopkeepers I’ve met out here. I don’t quite know how they manage to make clothes so quickly overnight, but I was about to find out.

Somehow overnight this becomes a suit and shirt!

The next day Ricardo, Dirk, Malcolm and I decided to hire cycles, so at 11am I rode back to the shop for my fitting. The shirt and trousers were already hanging up waiting for me, and fitted absolutely perfectly. Its so hard to find trousers that fit me well, and they alone were worth paying the money for. The suit jacket was handed to me but needed a few alterations for it to fit properly. I was told to return at 5pm, so in the meantime we all went for a ride to a nearby beach.

I want to ride my....

Having had plenty of experience of watching cyclists dicing with death through the windows of various buses in the last few weeks, I had a fair idea of what to expect, although thankfully the roads around Hoi An are relatively quiet.

On my bike

It was nice to take to two wheels and make our way through the countryside, with fellow tourists giving us a wave and a smile as we passed by. It was only a dollar to hire a bike for the day so it made sense to see a bit of the region while we could, and after a few Larue beers over the last few days, it was some much needed exercise.

It was about 8km to the nearest beach, and as we entered the village we got flagged down by someone at the side of the road with a whistle. Thinking it was the Vietnamese police, we pulled off into a shed, where someone was waiting with tickets. Apparently, no bicycles were allowed at the beach. It was a lie! It was only a short walk though, so we paid the 10p per bike they were wanting and headed to the sands.

Rubbish beach

We needn’t have bothered. As Ricky said, it was ‘probably the worst beach he’d ever been to,’ and I had to agree. The weather had undoubtedly battered the coast – one of the locals told us it was the tail end of a cyclone – and the waves were still rough. Along with some washed up palm trees, there was rubbish everywhere, and on closer inspection it soon became clear where it was all from – China.

The message was missing

The horizon we were trying to see through the mist and spray was over the greeny-coloured South China Sea, and all the tins, plastic bottles and glass containers washing up on the Vietnamese shore would indicate tonnes of the stuff is being thrown into the sea further up the coast and ending up littering what would otherwise be, on a calm and sunny day, a beautiful bit of coastline.

We carried on up the coast to see if it improved, but it didn’t. Instead, we headed back towards Hoi An for some lunch, but taking time to get photos of local farmers and fishermen working in the surrounding paddy fields, while some of the local cows took an interest in us.

Meeting a few more locals

We had lunch at a bar and restaurant across the road from the hotel. It was one I’d spotted as it was advertising a free pool table on the door, and it was about time some of our competitive streak came out in us again. After a few frames, it started raining outside again – and it just didn’t stop. It was absolutely torrential, so much so the roads began to flood. Running across the road to the hotel opposite was enough to soak you through. Most of the group had taken refuge back in their rooms, but most of the group, me included, also had to get back into town for 5pm for a final fitting.

Thankfully I still had my cycle parked outside the hotel, so having dug out my Berghaus again, cycled off through the puddles to Le Loi street, where my suit was hanging on a door waiting for me. This time it was too tight – and meant another trip back at 7pm. In between, I had to return the cycle, so either way I knew it meant a drenching. Sure enough, it was still hammering down, and I arrived back at the shop with all the girls laughing at me. They sat me down and gave me a bottle of water, taking my raincoat and hanging it to dry off.

The suit and swimshorts look is in, right?!

The suit fitted really well, with sleeves the perfect length and no wrinkling at the back. It’ll probably be a different story by the time I go back to work, but within a few minutes a courier was at the shop ready to pack it off to the UK. It was $28 to send it via sea mail, but thankfully I had a brainwave and asked how much to send another kilo of belongings from my rucksack. It was $2 more, but meant walking back to the hotel.

Thankfully Lu said I could borrow her bike, so back I went on her traditional ladies cycle, much to the amusement of the hotel porter when I arrived. Twenty minutes later, I was back at the shop with the pay as you go mobile phone Dad got me when my iPhone broke, my unused electric shaver, some books and a few more souvenirs and papers. Every little helps when it comes to keeping the weight on your shoulders down!

With my first ever made-to-measure suit on its way home, dinner was, unsurprisingly, at the same bar and restaurant opposite the hotel as we had lunch, and the evening was spent playing pool as it continued to lash down outside. There’s no wonder the staff at the restaurant joined the hotel staff in waving us off the next morning – we certainly gave them a lot of business during our short stay!

When it rains, it pours - especially on the mountain pass

We headed off on a four hour journey north to Hue, pronounced ‘Huway’ due to the French influence in the area. The rain was still incessant, meaning we couldn’t take a spectacular mountain pass and instead had to travel through Asia’s longest tunnel, at about 6.9km.

It came out onto some tight hairpin bends in scenery that seemed familiar, and then Malcolm confirmed why. We’re following the same route that Top Gear did when they filmed in Vietnam, and I distinctly remembered the stretch of road we were on. After a few unnerving twists and turns, we arrived in Hue – and still the rain continued to pour.

I’m writing this with my heart in my mouth. My good friend Colin just grabbed my arm with genuine fear. We’re travelling on what might possibly be the most frightening journey of our lives.

We’ve had to take a night sleeper bus to Hoi An, as the night train which was supposed to take us there was cancelled after the railway line was hit by a lorry last night. Travelling around Vietnam is proving to be an experience.

All smiles before the journey!

I’m currently typing as we’re climbing mountain passes above the sea in the dead of night. The lights were switched off at 7.30pm, its pitch black and I’m laying in my sleeper bunk, while Colin and Ricky are next to and behind me. Its fair to say we are all clinging on to the metal railings as tight as we can, while the driver of the bus a few metres away is happily overtaking on blind bends, talking on a mobile phone and generally swerving all over the place.

I’ll admit, writing this blog entry is partly to take my concentration away from the dramas going on through the front windscreen, partly to look back on in the future and remember just how petrified many of us are, and partly so that if this laptop is found in the wilderness below one day, there will be a record of exactly how it ended up stuck in a tree.

The news that we were to change from a comfortable sleeper train to this worrying form of transport was posted on the Gap Adventures noticeboard in the hotel lobby this morning. Its news that wasn’t particularly well received by anybody, mainly as nobody was looking forward to an overnight train ride, let alone one on bumpy roads in a tightly packed bus.

Colin and Sarah before we set off

Despite our annoyance, we all got onboard when it picked us up outside the hotel at 6.30pm. For most of us it’s the first time we’ve experienced a sleeper bus, and I think for many of us it could possibly be the last. Its clearly built with shorter Vietnamese people in mind – my bed isn’t quite long enough for my six foot frame, and the three abreast formation is cosy to say the least. We all ended up laughing about the situation, apart from Colin who failed to sleep a wink on the train, and knows he’s in for another sleepless night on a bus.

I can just about straighten my legs!

The bus is laid out with about 30 bunks, which are a bit like unadjustable thin hospital beds. Your feet tuck under the head of the person in front of you, while there’s a little rack to balance snacks and bags. I chose a bed on the bottom left near the front of the bus, offering a grandstand view of some of the ‘oh my God’ moments that were about to unfold in front of us.

The bus was full when we left the second pick up in Nha Trang, but that doesn’t seem to matter here. If you have money, you can have a seat, even if that does mean you’re on the floor inbetween everyone else who has a proper seat. Soon we were picking up Vietnamese locals needing a lift, until we got to a point where all the aisles were full of people. I had one man right next to me – invading my ‘personal space’ territory, happily watching as I tapped away on my laptop, giving me a cheeky smile every now and again.

Poor quality picture, but you can just see Colin's new friend in the aisle!

The next eye-opener was when we stopped for fuel on the outskirts of Nha Trang, when many of us noticed that a large portion of the bus appeared to be held together by parcel tape.

Sellotape had a field day

It was a fact confirmed by Dirk, our German tour mate, who was unfortunate enough to be placed at the back of the bus, squashed between Vietnamese families and under a dripping skylight that was covered with tape. The bottom of the bus was also full of holes.

Our holy bus!

The main eye-opener was the driving. While Mongolian roads a few weeks ago were scary for their general lack of rules and order, Vietnamese drivers do at least tend to stick to traffic lights and speed limits. But it’s the increased number of mopeds without lights and a need to overtake anything in the way as quickly as possible that causes problems here, while braking is only to be done at the last moment, if indeed it’s done at all.

With no proper motorways, the end result is motorway-style driving on a grand scale along a road with more twists than the A46, and more potholes than the moon.

Quite often our bus is driving along the wrong side of the road, oncoming drivers keep flashing their full beam at us, the sound of a loud horn is so frequent it just becomes background noise. The feeling as we career around a blind bend, overtaking a van or lorry, only to see headlights suddenly appear, is quite hard to explain. And every few minutes, his stupid mobile phone ringtone goes off, to which he answers and has a cheery natter with someone.

I know road rules and driving standards vary in different countries, but this is in another league!

Colin donned his special hat for luck

Its only 10pm and for those of us still awake, our nerves have pretty much gone. As we climbed up a mountain pass, with a sheer drop into the sea below us, lorries roared past with just an inch or so clearance. Slower, more careful drivers were just an irritant for our driver, who made it his mission to overtake as quickly and as dangerously as possible.

At one point, the whole bus rolled to one side after he misjudged a bend, making many of us think we were heading for the roadside barrier and a bit of a swim. That’s when Colin grabbed my arm, thinking the end was near.

“This is honestly the most terrified I’ve ever been,” he said.

Ricardo said he was genuinely contemplating getting off and hiring a car for the rest of the journey.

“The oncoming lights just keep getting bigger and nearer,” he laughs, nervously.

I keep telling myself the driver must know what he’s doing as he drives this route for a living. But theres still a nagging feeling of doubt hanging over me.

Some of the others have nodded off, blissfully unaware of all the drama around us. Maybe I should do the same. Hopefully I’ll write more tomorrow.

Smiles from Victoria, Tamsin and Cindy. Colin reached breaking point!

We survived! Thankfully, I’m able to write more – we made it to Hoi An almost three hours later than scheduled somehow. We were all just glad to have made it in one piece. Most of us actually got some sleep, although there was one moment in the middle of the night where there was a huge blast of horns, the brakes were slammed on and in my slumber I remember a swerving feeling before the distinct rumble and bumpiness of going off road.

I didn’t actually open my eyes – I didn’t want to see what was going on and decided if it was the end, I’d rather be asleep!

I did open my eyes at about 4am though, with the feeling of something crawling over my feet. It didn’t feel too small either, and with the help of my camera display screen being used as a torch, examined the area where I had my feet.

A cockroach.

I tried to shoo it out but it wandered off somewhere, so I went back to sleep. I’m obviously getting used to living alongside the bugs here now!

This was all combined with quite possibly the angriest bus driver I’ll probably ever meet, who ironically demanded we take our shoes off before getting on to his cockroach infested vehicle. There were a number of occasions where his face scrunched up and he yelled something in Vietnamese, and with a flick of his hand yet another person had been reprimanded for taking one footstep too far in a flip flop.

It all ended in a playing field somewhere in Hoi An, where our luggage, if it wasn’t soaked already from the hold of the leaky bus, was thrown into the mud. We were dumped without any onward transport to our hotel. Someone from the bus company was shouting at our tour leader Fon, who by now was looking exasperated. I could tell it hadn’t been the easiest of journeys for her either – it’s the first time she’d had to take a sleeper bus too.

Hoi An in one piece - just!

It turned out Gap Adventures had been promised a transfer to the hotel, but once the money had been taken and we’d reached the destination, the bus company and angry driver decided otherwise. We trooped around the town to our hotel, and then on for some breakfast at a lovely French café by the river.

Fon said she wasn’t too hungry.

“I had two cockroaches in my bed last night, and they weren’t there this morning. I think I’ve eaten them…I’m full of cockroach,” she joked.

It was certainly a journey few of us will forget.

On the road again!

After a long week of driving across Cambodia, it was nice for my feet to finally wade into the Gulf of Thailand.

We’d stopped off at Sihanoukville, a resort on the southern coastline which boasted beautifully soft white sands, blue sea and cheap beer. It was the perfect tonic after a long few days on the road, but a good opportunity to recharge batteries before more long drives to Vietnam in the next few days.

Much of the arrival day was spent in a beach bar, sipping cocktails, eating pizza and playing pool. The evenings were spent dining on the beach with yet more chicken amok and good company. Everyone has really clicked now on the tour, but the sad news is that theres quite a few leaving us in the next couple of days.

Dinner on the beach

In the meantime there were plenty of laughs – John the Aussie providing plenty of them, particularly when he was sent sprinting along the beach, chased by a Cambodian kid who was launching fireworks at him.

The next day was spent lounging around the pool, writing and uploading my blog and generally relaxing. I worked out it was the first day I’d had without any travelling, sightseeing or deadlines to meet for around two months, and I felt much better for it. It was nice to sit and do nothing for a change. It might sound strange, but travelling like this is very demanding and takes its toll – you are constantly on the go and always against time.

Dusty, sandy landscape turned into this

Rested up, and after six days working our way across Cambodia, it was time for some serious long-distance road trips to the next country on our list –Vietnam.

We left Sihanoukville early, destined for Chau Doc, a Vietnamese town just inside the border. It was a four hour journey to the border through lush green countryside and paddy fields. Along long stretches of the journey, farmers were drying rice along the side of the road. Children would wave as we passed through, spotting the Western faces smiling back through the windows.

A stop at some services a few hours into the drive brought the latest culinary discovery: the delightful sounding Special Flossy Pork.

Mmmmm!

Not happy with just taking a photograph of the odd foodstuff, at $1.50 it was worth buying just to give it a try. There were lots of ‘ughs’ and ‘yucks’ as the packaging was opened to reveal something that wouldn’t look out of place stuffed into a mattress. After teasing some apart – it had the consistency and feel of wool – I put it in my mouth.

Tasty flossy pork!

Its strangely good – so much so I had a bit more to make sure. It tasted a bit like bacon, but with the consistency of a Hessian sack until it works itself into a chewy lump. By now, others were interested – Ricky had a try and wasn’t a fan, while Canadian Alissa decided it was so good, she too needed second helpings.

I don’t think it will feature on a Gordon Ramsey menu anytime soon, but Special Flossy Pork is certainly something we’ll think twice about laughing at in the future!

We were still pulling strands of stringy pork from our teeth when we arrived at the Cambodia-Vietnam border, where we had to get off the bus, grab our bags and walk through no-mans land to the other side. Its always a strange feeling walking through a border – a few steps taking you from one country into another – but its my fourth such crossing in a month now and you get used to the practice.

Crossing the Cambodia/Vietnam border

A few Cambodian flags and a border control post marked the end of my stay in a fascinating country, while teams of police and dozens of red, star-emblazoned Vietnam flags marked the start of almost two weeks in this communist land.

Welcome to 'Nam!

It marked the start of a noticeable fascination with motorbikes in quite a spectacular way. There was a steady stream of riders making their way through the border having loaded an almost unbelievable amount onto two wheels. In some cases you could hear the tiny engine struggling with the weight, as the hapless rider struggled to keep balance. Many smiled as we took photographs of them. Their main load was empty rice sacks, heading back to the paddy fields and drying sites to be refilled.

Get the man a trailer!

It wasn’t long before the landscape changed again, and you could tell straight away that this was a richer and far more developed country. Its still poor by Western standards, but the wooden shacks changed into more developed, permanent buildings.

After a long day of travelling, we stopped for the night in Chau Doc, providing an opportunity to look around the local market and get our heads around yet another currency, with another comedy name. The Vietnamese Dong takes some getting used to – theres 32,000 of them to the pound, but most prices are worked out for comparison in US Dollars. Its my seventh currency to use within a month, and its taking its toll – I’m bad at maths anyway, but even buying a can of Coke results in a tough mental arithmetic test these days! I did become a double millionaire though – with yet another Deal or No Deal-style option list on the ATM screen, I took out two million Dongs – about £62.

Thankyou Mr Banker but...No Deal

It was another long slog to Ho Chi Minh City, or Saigon to give it its historical name.

Waiting for the ferry

An eight our drive broken up by a few stops and a river crossing on a ferry. It was an interesting trip across the river, mainly dominated by an impromptu catwalk display from Asata, our American companion who went all New York on us with her struts up and down the top deck of the ship. Nobody quite knew why, or what prompted it, but it was entertaining all the same!

With John and Ricardo on the ferry

The ferry was full of locals, mainly attached to mopeds and scooters. They may be the transport of choice around here, but it was fun to watch them trying to brave the drop and gap over the water from the ship’s ramp onto the shore.

A few hours later we arrived in Saigon. For me it was my first major stop in the country, but for some it was the end of their trip. My 30-day tour is broken down into week-long sections, so for Aussie John, New Yorker Assata, Scottish Darren and Londoner Louise, the two days here would be the last we’d spend with them.

As we arrived late in the afternoon, there wasn’t chance to do much before dinner, so a few of us browsed around the local market. To get there you had to cross about four major roads. Normally, that’s not a problem, but when there’s no observed pedestrian crossings, and a city where motorbikes are the main transport for its population, crossing the road becomes an unnerving challenge for Westerners.

Help!

The advice we’d been given was not to look or listen, and to just walk across –  the general idea being that everyone else will see you and work around you by anticipating your walk. They get on their way, you reach the other side of the road.  The golden rule is not to stop, as that just confuses everyone and causes chaos.

Putting that into practice is not easy – it goes against everything you ever learnt with the Green Cross Code, and laughs in the face of almost every human instinct programmed into us to avoid instant death. But it seems to work.

Stepping into free-flowing motorbike traffic, flying past at up to 30 mph, is a strange feeling. Horns beep, occasionally people shout, but it’s the only way to cross roads. After a while you get used to it, the only unnerving part being on the odd occasion when you look up at dozens of faces and mopeds heading straight at you when you’re in the middle of the road. Somehow, and its down to millimetres at times, everything manages to miss you, and miss each other!

Two wheels rule the roads here!

We reached the market to find a lot of bargains – this is definitely the place to come for cheap clothes and labels, particularly if you need a new rucksack. North Face bags can be had for as little as a fiver, and they are not necessarily fake. I’m currently using one I got in Thailand earlier in the year, and its holding up very well and excellent quality. Many of the labelled goods are made in factories nearby, and the theory is that many of them with small imperfections, or even excess stock, gets released to the locals to sell on.

Farewell meal in Ho Chi Minh City

That night was changeover night, so we met our next tour buddies and had to give those leaving a good send-off. Two of them had become really good friends – fellow journo John from Australia, and London auction house valuer Louise.

With Verena (right) sending Louise (left) back home with a few vodkas!

Louise was only on a week long trip, but told me she’s reached a point where she wants to travel more, afraid she’d look back and regret not doing more. It’s a similar thought to my own, and it wasn’t the only thing we had in common – it turned out we were both at Southampton Institute together, and even in the same faculty group!

For three years, I was studying Journalism and Louise was studying Fine Arts Valuation, culminating in us both graduating on the same day and at the same ceremony. For much of those three years, we would have been in neighbouring classrooms, as many of our classes were in the same building. We probably passed each other many times in corridors, unaware that in ten years time the paths of our respective lives would cross again thousands of miles away from home.

Sending John back to Oz

John was also on a short trip, having had time off from work but unable to travel anywhere with his girlfriend at the same time. He’s one of life’s good guys, giving and taking great banter, able to lift a mood when its needed, and able to pull off some of the best impressions of people on the tour, including our lovely leader Fon. We knew we’d all miss the British/Australian banter, and we made sure we gave him a good send off. We ended up in some bars around Ho Chi Minh, watching a bit of live Premier League football between Manchester City and Newcastle, drinking cheap Saigon beer and having plenty of laughs.

So many, that my 5am arrival back at the hotel ensured my next day tour was written off, but it turned out that the following day had some great highlights.

John, Alissa and Ricky and respective cyclos!

With a raging hangover thirst, and the need for something other than rice or noodles, we headed to Pizza Hut. John pulled off some of the best impressions yet, that had Ricky, Alissa and I laughing so hard we were very nearly on the floor. Particularly funny was his line “I am not bus company,” referring to Fon’s explanation that we couldn’t be late for the bus as it wont wait for us. His breakdown of breakfast and pricing, complete with hand movements, was exceptional.

Hangovers cleared, we needed to get to the war museum to meet the rest of the tour group. We decided to take some of the cyclos, a kind of bike with a pram-style basket on the front that you sit in. It’s a taxi service, and proved to be one of the best decisions of our stay in the city.

A great way to travel!

John got placed with Alissa, while Ricky and I got given our own, and soon we were weaving around all over the roads and through the thousands of motorbikes that make this city such brilliant fun. It took about 20 minutes and the equivalent of just under £2 each for the ride, but it was money well spent. The laughs continued, and it was a brilliant way to see the city.

War Remnants Museum

The laughs soon stopped at the War Remnants museum however, a collection of photographs, images and stories about the Vietnam War and the effects caused by some of the American weapons used on the Vietnamese people.

Captured US tank

I had no idea just how much damage is still caused by some of the poisons dropped on the country, particularly Agent Orange. Some of the photographs of people and children still being affected, or born disfigured as a result, were particularly hard to look at. So too were the images of war and some of the stories of what happened to whole villages under American fire.

American bomb and shell fragments

There were collections of crash wreckage, bomb fragments, guns and mines which were left behind by the fighting, while the outside area is dominated by aircraft and tanks that belonged to the States.

A goodbye from Louise and Darren as we leave them behind

Before long, it was time to say our goodbyes to the rest of the group that was leaving as we headed to the main railway station for an overnight train to Nha Trang. It was sad to leave our friends behind as the bus continued on without them, but we shared some great times together and good friendships were made. I’d like to think we’ll meet up again sometime, and Ive already promised John a pint in Melbourne when I arrive.

On a train again at Saigon station

That night we were on the train to the coast once again, sharing a compartment with Colin, Sarah and Malcolm. We raised a beer in tribute to those who had left, and looked forward to the next part of the trip with some new friends in tow.

With Ricky, Colin and Sarah on the train

Angkor Wat, Cambodia

I don’t really know too much about Cambodia – to me its one of those countries I’ve only heard of as it was featured on the news for all the wrong reasons when I was younger. But it’s the first stop on my tour and only a few hours drive away.

With a few fuzzy heads, we set off from Bangkok split up into two luxurious minibuses, although we’d been warned not all the hotels and transport will be quite as nice as the first few experiences. After a brief stop to pick up our Cambodian visas we had lunch at a border town street market. It was an interesting bowl of noodles, with some particularly interesting ‘mystery meat’ inside, mainly in the form of a tongue-shaped black lump. I hid it under a spoon and pretended I hadn’t seen it.

Interesting mealtime addition

With border formalities over in around an hour, we arrived in Siam Reap in the early evening. It’s clear that Cambodia is a much poorer country than Thailand – its dusty streets are lined with shacks made of wood and corrugated metal.

Welcome to Cambodia

Many streets are potholed and littered with rubbish. Begging is a part of life here, and its never too long before a young child approaches asking for a dollar for some postcards or a bracelet.

Tuk Tuks are also a major part of life here, and infact the main way of getting from A to B in towns due to the poor roads. They are slightly different to the nimble, wheelie performing speed demons of Bangkok, as it’s mainly a trailer attached to a motorbike, but they are surprisingly comfortable.

At the Thailand/Cambodia border with Assata from the tour

A tuk tuk was our mode of transport to a meal with a Cambodian family on the first night, and we left the hotel in a fleet of four. The journey was going well until we hit a particularly dusty stretch of road which had been badly potholed by recent flooding. Gradually, the motorbike started to sound like it needed a breather, before eventually deciding that enough was enough and it had one on its own accord. Incredibly, we’d broken down in a tuk tuk in the middle of nowhere. We considered a call to the AA.

John, Malcolm and our broken down tuk tuk

After about 20 minutes of frantic kick-starting by the driver, he got it going again long enough to limp to his friend’s house, where the motorbike was swapped over and we were off again.

Stuck

We couldn’t go all of the way to the house by tuk tuk as the road was still partly flooded by the heavy rains, but after a 10 minute walk we were greeted by the really friendly family in the village of Spean Chreav.

It was a shoes-off, sit around on the flood together affair, just how the Cambodians enjoy mealtimes, but I was introduced to something which suddenly rocketed up my favourite foods list.

Typical Cambodian meal

It’s a Cambodian dish called Amok, and comes along with various ‘run amok’ jokes, but its one of the best things I’ve eaten from this region. It came in a folded banana leaf, and was a creamy, fragrant taste a bit like a Thai green curry but thicker and sweeter.

Chicken Amok with curry and rice...beautiful!

Everyone ate really well after the slightly off-putting lunch, before the children of the village were allowed to come up and play with us.

The village kids join us

The place where we had been eating was being turned into a community school for the village by the family, who had taken it on themselves to promote education and encourage youngsters to get good jobs and a good future. But one of the surprising factors of the evening was just how much modern technology has reached into some of the poorest, most difficult places to live.

Having been asked what games one of the boys like to play, and expecting an answer along the lines of football or basketball, we were quite surprised to hear ‘Angry Birds’! Incredibly, the kids here are all big fans of the totally addictive game that started out on the iPhone, where you have to twang little birds into bricks to kill little green pigs. Its all cartoony and quite harmless, but the kids could do great impressions of the actions and noises the birds make.

Darren with his iPod touch suddenly became very popular!

I had a chat with the woman who is setting up the school. She told me the whole village had been under water for two months due to the floods, but that now it had started to dry out she could start planning activities for the kids again. She told me how they loved going to the shopping centre as a treat, purely to spend hours going up and down the escalators and lifts. She said the children have one dream: to see the sea.

Our tour group with the village children

She’s trying to save enough money to take them next year, but it’s still a humbling thing to hear. Living on the coast of an island back home, I take the seaside for granted. For the children here, it was as much a dream to see it as it is for us winning the lottery. She went on to tell me how she’s gaining support and helping to organise events among parents in the village – on Facebook! It seems wherever you are in the world, apart from those places its banned, there’s no getting away from its usefulness!

It was an early night back, as at stupid o’clock in the morning our alarms were all going off. It was 4.20am, still dark outside, and there was a tour bus waiting outside reception. It was to take us to Angkor Wat, a series of huge ancient temples just outside the town. We’d been asked if we wanted to go for sunrise, and however much the temptation was to say I’d give it a miss, this was one early morning start I was glad I made.

Sunrise at Angkor Wat

It’s such a famous sight, but to see the sky changing colour behind it as dawn breaks was spectacular. We arrived to see a feint silhouette of the main temple looming ahead, and as we moved into position around the pond in front, gradually the sky changed from a deep blue, to purple, to red and through to orange as the sun rose from behind one of its famous towers.

Sunrise

It was difficult to know when to take photos, as with every passing minute the incredible scene in front of us changed for the better – the mirror image reflection on the perfectly still water got clearer, and there was genuine excitement among the hundreds of people who had got up so early to watch the spectacle. I wasn’t expecting to be taken aback by it quite as much as I was – it truly was one of the best sunrises I’d seen in such a beautiful and famous setting.

After a quick trip back to the hotel for breakfast (and in my case, a much needed powernap) we headed back. Angkor Wat, built around 1150, is perhaps one of the most incredible buildings mankind has ever made.

From the back

But there isn’t just the one temple-it’s a massive site, built for the king Suryavarman IIin the early 12th century as his state temple and capital city.

People still live and work around the temples

Its estimated that Angkor had been the largest pre-industrial city in the world, with an elaborate system of infrastructure connecting an urban sprawl of at least 390 square miles. There were around 1,000 temples of various sizes, a huge manmade moat and the biggest swimming pool ever constructed at the time – although only to be used by the leader and his people.

We first went to a place known as the jungle temple, where the native trees have done their best to wreck the place. Everywhere you look, huge trunks and roots weave their way around the huge stone blocks. The belief is that the temples came from nature, and so if nature wants to take them back, then so be it.

Big roots!

The end result is a great sight – huge ‘spung’ trees, hundreds of years old, growing through the roof in various locations, and intricate roots searching around the giant stone blocks for a water source. Many parts have been renovated and pieced back together following collapse, rivalling the Terracotta Warriors for the title of most difficult jigsaw puzzle.

Our group

Next we went on to another temple which involved a death-defying climb up the side. The steps were incredibly steep, and almost as vertical as ladders. A good group of us made it to the top and took in the views.

The view was great

The main temple of Angkor is the star here though – it was the centre of the huge site that was constructed. Its unbelievably huge, regarded as the largest single religious building ever made.

Tiny detail

But apart from its size, the detail of the carvings is hard to take in. Almost every piece of stone has intricate stonework covering the whole surface – around doorways, around windows, along walls, on floors – it must have been one of the most labour-intensive projects ever undertaken by man. The stone was brought some 100km from a quarry, sometimes floated along a nearby river on the monsoon tides. There are still holes and markings visible on most, where those who built the temple somehow managed to lift them into place.

Some of the stone carvings

Everything here is on an incredibly huge scale, from the detailed stonework, to the wall carvings, to the vast area the whole place covers. Elephants were used to move the stone around, and in many places there are carvings of elephants and trunks which protrude from the walls.

We’d all been in search of the elusive photograph of a robed monk, and while in the main temple there were a group of them walking around. We all tried to get discreet shots, but when there’s a group of tourists suddenly reaching for cameras whenever they get near, it soon became clear what we were up to. One of them came over and talked to us about his life, where he was from and how he was enjoying his visit. He then said we could add him as a friend on Facebook. It really does seem absolutely everyone is on it!

Fellow tourists!

At another temple, hundreds of faces of the Buddha look out from huge stone pillars, while we spent a few minutes walking along the main road into the site, through a stone gateway, again with more intricate detail all over it.

One of the main bridges over the moat

The sun was beating down on us all day, and the sticky heat means it’s always a relief to get into the air conditioned minibus, but as we were driving away there were some elephants at the side of the road. The bus stopped and we all took turns to stroke their trunks and feed them bananas. They are such beautiful animals, their eyes looking at you and taking everything in around them as you approach.

As a group we’d decided to make our way to a floating village, so we left the temples at about 4pm to catch a boat. The full problem of the flooding became clear as we approached the departure point – water was suddenly as far as the eye could see, with the tops of trees and bushes poking out.

Flooding

We passed villagers who were busy making dinner and going about their lives, despite the watery surroundings. While many of their houses were raised off the ground, it was obviously difficult to live and get by in such conditions,

We got on the boat for the journey to the floating village, which according to our guide is mainly made up of Vietnamese people who made their way to Cambodia but were not allowed entry.

Floating village

Instead, they took their boats and floated out into the lake they had just crossed, hooked up to a tree and made it their home. Now there’s a fairly substantial village, complete with school and a hammock bar, happily floating around six metres above land, and in doing so getting around the border problem.

Chilling!

Everyone seemed really happy as we floated by, lounging around on the roof of the boat, many were giving us waves and saying hello. At one point a faster longboat pulled up and a young girl, only around seven years old, jumped over the gap to sell us beers and soft drinks.

After watching a beautiful sunset over the lake – meaning we’d seen it rise and set in the same day – we stopped by a crocodile farm where they breed them for meat and their skins. Then there was a special treat to go with our ice cold beers – some snake meat.

I saw it rise...I saw it set

Now, I’m always willing to give things a go – its part of the fun when travelling –but having been offered snake meat kebabs along with scorpions and tarantula when I was in China, it wasn’t really appealing to me here either. But then Colin said it was actually quite nice, followed by a few more tentative nibbles.

“It tastes like bacon,” someone joked.

And sure enough, it did – I first had a nibble, blotting out the fact that it’s a snake – and then got a bit of a taste for it. It was even the same texture as bacon, looking and tasting just like when you leave bacon in a frying pan for too long and it goes all dark and chewy. It was a surprise for everyone, and nobody left it. The plate was clean in no time!

Full of beer and snake, we headed back and went out for dinner and drinks. Having had quite a bit of my new discovery, chicken amok, over the last few days, I was recommended another dish by my Thai tour guide Fon. Its fried vegetables with chilli and garlic, so I ordered it- ‘deep fried morning glory’ (stop giggling at the back!)

While it was pleasant enough, it felt a bit too much like I was eating the grass we’d seen people picking from the roadside as we passed by on the bus. It was a bit dry with the mound of rice too. I knew I should have stuck with what I knew – the amok was ‘amazing’ according to those who had it.

It was the first opportunity to have a few drinks after dinner, so we headed for pool and cocktails at the Temple bar in Siam Reap. We’d been told for just $8 you get a pitcher of cocktail and a free t-shirt.

I only did it for a free t-shirt, honest!

It was a great night – the travelling pool sharks became known (Ricardo being one, although I managed to beat him) a stage was found and a few people managed to strut their stuff – badly – despite the incredibly long day. At 2.30am, I rolled back into the hotel clutching two free t-shirts, Tuk Tuk grease all up my legs and a lot of great photos and good laughs about the shenanigans that we’d all just been part of.

Ricardos pool skills impressed the locals

I’d agreed to give blood the next morning, which added to the hilarity for some people who’d seen me somehow put away about four litres of Cambodia’s finest Temple cocktail, but sure enough when the alarm went off at 9am I managed to drag myself down to reception to meet Fon, while everyone else slept off hangovers.

Because of the floods, there’s a huge outbreak of Dengue Fever among children at the moment, and its really taking its toll. Many are dieing because blood supplies, needed for treatment, are always running low. After checking that everything was sterile and new, with no risk of infection, I agreed to go along and give a pint to the local hospital.

Appeal for blood

I’m a big believer in giving blood – I did it for years back home until my travels saw me being turned away by the NHS. Because I’ve visited malaria-prone areas, I get banned from giving blood for up to a year at a time. That currently means it will be June 2013 before I can give blood in the UK again, but somebody somewhere may as well have some of it!

Despite taking anti-malaria tablets, the hospital welcomed me in. There were three of us, including Fon’s fellow tour guide friend, and many people looked at us as we walked through. It was a sad sight to see so many poorly children, many being cradled by their mums on mats on the floor. The hospital has to treat hundreds of children every day, and if ever I needed justification for doing what I was doing, the walk through to the donation room was just that.

It didn’t take long, and aside from a brief pinch when the needle goes in, the worst bit is always trying to take the plaster off later in the day. The least I can do in such a poor country is to give something back, and I’d like to think that a child somewhere has been helped out.

Helping out with a pint

An hour later we were on the bus heading to our next stop, Phenom Penh, the capital of Cambodia. It was a seven and a half hour journey on a public bus. It was comfortable enough, but the driver had an awful habit, as most do here, of beeping every time he approaches a cyclist/motorcyclist/tuk tuk/lorry…infact, almost anything.

Unfortunately, the horn gets used that much over here it pretty much loses its effect. This was demonstrated by the two dogs that were fighting in the road as we approached. There was a horn…and then there was a thud…and then the bus jolted up and down. The Chinese passengers on the right side of the bus laughed. Assata, our American co-traveller, screamed.

“Lets just call that fight a draw then,” says John in his Aussie accent.

Its never good when an animal loses its life, let alone two at the same time, but it was certainly the main talking point as we arrived in the capital after a day-long journey.

My view of South Korea

South Korea wasn’t a country I had on my visit wish-list, but thanks to Korean Air offering the cheapest ticket to Bangkok from Xi’An, I had the pleasure of spending 90 minutes there.

Naturally, my sightseeing abilities were limited somewhat, but from the air there seemed to be a nice beach on the flightpath into Seoul, and the airport had some pretty fast wifi!

I was just glad to be heading to Thailand. I’m booked onto a 30-day organised tour of south-east Asia, starting in the Thai capital, but there’s been a few concerns over whether it would actually go ahead or not due to the flooding, and risk of further flooding, around Bangkok.

Its been caused by a wet rainy season which has seen far more water descend on the country than normal – so much so that parts of the city have been evacuated. It had meant checking with the tour company a few times in the run-up to flying out, but thankfully it was all still going ahead, albeit with a change here and there as railway lines have been flooded. Despite all the doom and gloom reports I keep seeing on the news though (you know what reporters are like!) fellow travellers were reporting it wasn’t too bad.

Landing back in Bangkok was strange. Back in May, I landed at the same airport to meet Cat, a lovely girl I’d met in Hull back in January. We went on a few dates before she left for a year long trip to travel the world in March, but I know that I probably wouldn’t be doing any of my own travelling without her inspiration.

We met at a time when my personal life was pretty tough following a relationship break-up, and the year ahead of me didn’t seem to have any direction. I had little to look forward to aside from focusing on my career, but even that was proving difficult because of the situation at work – it’s always hard when a relationship ends but you still have to work together. But in Cat I found someone who was one of the most thoughtful and generous people I’d ever met, who could make me laugh, was great company and in turn made me realise life could be fun again.

Cat was touring south east Asia herself when she got in touch and suggested I fly out for a holiday. It was a massive step- a leap of faith she called it on my part – as we hardly really knew each other. We even jokingly worked out that our sixth date was two weeks in Thailand together – but going from a few drinks on a couple of nights in a Hull bar to spending all day every day together for two weeks on the other side of the world was pretty daunting for both of us.

With Cat and other travellers at Maya Bay, Koh Phi Phi, in May

As it happens, we had a fantastic time together backpacking, island-hopping, drinking far too many cocktails and eating more green curry than can ever be good for you. In doing so I discovered Thailand, how much I loved the region and the whole backpacking culture- it was that trip that made me realise just how much I’d possibly missed out on by focussing on my career when all my other friends were doing similar year-long jaunts around the world in their early twentys.

Cat’s stories and passion for the places she had travelled to was infectious. She kept drilling into me how ‘life’s too short’ and how we have to see the planet while we can. Now I was back at the same baggage carousel at Bangkok’s main airport six months on, waiting for my backpack to appear once again, but this time it was the first month of my own world adventure, and following in Cat’s footsteps by doing exactly the same tour around the Thailand, Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam.

Suddenly the time that had passed in between my arrivals at Bangkok seemed to disappear. I remember my nerves from that day in May and seeing Cat’s equally nervous but smiling face waiting for me at arrivals. It all felt very familiar, and it was good to be back, but it was a strange feeling to be there on my own.

I’d decided to stay in the same hotel we stayed at earlier in the year, the Bangkok Center Hotel, mainly as I knew exactly how to get there and the fact my tour starts from there in a few days time. It cost more than id been paying, but felt I needed a bit of a treat – a few days of comfortable privacy, in a big bed and with my own bathroom. Already that seems like a luxury!

The MBK shopping centre, Bangkok

I’d also decided the next few days would be relaxing after a few very busy weeks. It was nice to go to sleep without setting the alarm and having a lazy morning before heading to the MBK shopping centre Cat had taken me to. This was the place I knew would be able to sort out my iPhone – there’s a whole floor dedicated to Thai whizkids who can unlock, repair and in some cases completely rebuild almost any electronic device. After almost a month without it following the Apple update which cleared everything from it, I’d got used to seeing my iPhone as a useless lump of weight in my bag.

Sure enough, after just two hours and £10, it was back in working order again, completely unlocked and with an international simcard. I got my watch fixed for £1, and stocked up on a range of suncreams and insect repellent that id not bothered packing back home, mainly as Siberia didn’t really threaten on the sunburn front.

You become an expert at sandbag hurdles

It was clear however that Bangkok wasn’t out of the woods when it comes to flooding. There were sandbags absolutely everywhere, while businesses have built makeshift walls around them to try to keep water out.

My hotel

There were scores of buses, cars – and strangely, ice cream vans – parked up along the raised motorways. Taxi drivers I spoke to told me how the floodwaters were only two kilometres or so away from my hotel in places, and that they were expecting it to eventually reach the city centre.

Dam it

Emergency flood centres had been set up all over the place, while donation boxes are in almost every shop. I donated some pencil crayons and colouring books at the airport collection, as they’d been in my bag incase I came across any youngsters at some of the poorer places I’d been visiting in Mongolia. They joined other kids toys and crayons that hopefully will cheer someone up a little. The rest of my time in Bangkok was spent uploading a backlog of photos and posts to my blog, which had been banned in China, while I also sent a box of books and souvenirs from the trans-Siberian part of my trip home to the UK.

Makeshift walls in readiness

In reception at the hotel, my name was on a list of 13 or so other names that form my tour group with Gap Adventures. When I first arrived, it was strange to look at the list knowing they were the people who would form a huge part of my next few weeks of travelling, yet I had no idea who they are. Before long it was 6pm on Friday, November 11, and the time for the reception meeting to be introduced to everyone.

The famous Khao San Road

It was a nervous start to the meeting, everyone seemed quiet and subdued. A lot of people had only just flown into Thailand and so were still getting used to both the heat and the time difference. We started with a few introductions and soon worked out who was who. There was an American, a Canadian, two Germans, a girl from Switzerland, an Australian, a Scot and six of us from England.

Neon and madness on the Khao San Road!

It seems to be a really good mix of people, and we were soon being loaded into tuk tuks for a Thai green curry on the famous Khao San Road. Before long, the banter started to get going, fuelled by plenty of large Chang beers. John, an Aussie, is a fellow journalist, working for a Fox sports network in Melbourne , so we already had plenty in common, including a shared sense of humour.

A deal being struck for Colin's hat!

We moved outside for a few more drinks, taking in the atmosphere and getting to know one another better. There was a steady stream of hawkers coming up and offering a variety of daft things to buy. We managed to keep them all at bay, until the alcohol fuelled a purchase of a daft hat for $2. It was a joint purchase by John and I for Colin, who is here with his partner Sarah from Nottingham.

'Smiles' all round

Naturally, Colin had to wear it, and he particularly enjoyed his close encounter with the sales lady and her pretty nifty dentistry.

'Gis a kiss Colin?!'

Ice firmly shattered, we headed back to the hotel in another fleet of tuk tuks. Somehow, despite three biggish blokes being in the back, our driver managed to pull off a number of wheelies along some busy Bangkok streets. It was all highly entertaining until he managed to wheelie off into the distance with around four quid more than we’d agreed in his pocket. Still, it had been a great end to a good first night on the tour.

It’s great to be back in this part of the world, and already i’m realising exactly why it inspired me to come back and to see and experience more of life over here. Tomorrow we head to Cambodia.

Tuk Tuks: A wheelie good ride!