tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34067116341068146812024-03-13T01:55:49.760-07:00Travel ScarsJames' adventures in Africa. From Cape Town to Cairo and a little beyond....Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.comBlogger110125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-65925399673113977112017-02-12T09:26:00.000-08:002017-02-12T09:26:01.711-08:00We. The North.June 4th-June 12th<br />
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Our time in the central islands of the Philippines had come to an end. We woke up at the break of dawn and were shuttled to Coron's airport in the middle of nowhere. Our morning flight would be bringing us back to Manila and back to the island of Luzon, where we would be heading to the north of the island for our final time in the Philippines.<br />
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Once back in Manila, we immediately made our way to the bus station and hopped on a bus headed north to Vigan, our first destination. Even though Vigan is 405km away from Manila, the mountainous roads of the Cordillera region made the drive slow and it took us between 7-10 hours to finally get to our destination.<br />
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We arrived after dark and hadn't made any reservations. We took a taxi to the area where our desired accommodation was located and hoped for the best. The door was locked and we had to wait outside until someone opened up the door. Thankfully, they had one room left and I jumped on the opportunity. It was considerably fancier than the places we were used to and was a heritage building.<br />
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Vigan, not to be confused with those non-animal-based-product-eating hippies, is a city that was captured and settled by the Spanish in 1572. It grew in power and influence and became the seat of the Diocese of Nueva Segovia in 1758. It was spared from bombing in World War II and as a result, Vigan still maintains much of its original colonial charm; including cobble-stone roads, Spanish-era villas and also uses <i>kalesa (</i>horse drawn carriages) as well as trikes.<br />
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Because of this high degree of preservation, it was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1999, being the best preserved Spanish colonial town in all of Asia.<br />
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We started our day just sauntering through the cobble-stoned streets and admiring the colonial architecture. We eventually came across a small nondescript church with an extravagant graveyard behind it.<br />
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It was surprisingly interesting to wander around and see the elaborate crypts, tombs and tombstones.<br />
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From there we went to Plaza Burgos, a tribute to Father Jose Burgos. This was right across the street from St. Paul's Cathedral and the Archbishop's Palace.<br />
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From there we passed City Hall and stopped to take some pics in front of the Plaza Salcedo and its impressive fountain.<br />
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Our next stop was the most interesting of the day: the Provincial Jail. This colonial-era building was still in use but could also be visited by tourists. We assumed it wasn't for dangerous offenders because we got to tour a basketball court and saw a large group of prisoners watching TV.<br />
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After a great breakfast at our hotel, we headed for Baguio, our layover stop before heading deeper into the Cordillera region of Luzon.<br />
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Baguio is a bustling university town and was founded as a hill station for the US military in the early 1900s.<br />
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We arrived near nightfall so the landscape was rather obscured, but two things were for sure: 1) Baguio was extremely hilly (there were no trikes to be seen) and 2) there was a ton of traffic.<br />
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We settled on a place called Blue Mountain Hotel and were eager to have a night on the town. Being a university town at the very beginning of the semester, we expected the night life to be the stuff of legends.<br />
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We started our evening by eating at Cafe by the Ruins. This restaurant was a little more high class than we were used to, but the food and the ambience were second to none. We ran into a little problem when we ordered drinks with our meal, because the waiter informed us that they didn't serve alcohol.<br />
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Being extremely resourceful, Mike went off into the night and procured us a 6-pack and came back into the restaurant. The waiter saw, and was not impressed. We stated that we would have gladly purchased them from the restaurant if they had offered them. After some friendly exchange, he finally agreed, but told us we would have to drink it from nondescript glasses. Fair enough.<br />
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We had heard about a really popular student bar district and we decided to find it. For some reason (most likely frugality), we decided to walk and find it rather than take a taxi. We walked around for probably over an hour until we finally stumbled upon this mecca of partying.<br />
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Unfortunately, the 3-4 bars in this complex were virtually empty! It turns out that we had in fact showed up one week too early for the beginning of the semester, and as a consequence, missed all the first-week shenanigans.<br />
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We did finally go into one bar jam-packed with 4 other people, including one not so convincing lady-boy, and I ended up dancing on stage with everyone while Mike took pictures of this sorry spectacle.<br />
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The following day, were were off to Sagada, the Cordillera's natural wonderland. It has been alluring us with caving, hiking, waterfalls and fascinating hanging coffins (more on that later), but first we had to get there.<br />
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We took an almost 6-hour bus ride from Baguio to Sagada. Considering it is only 150km away, you can imagine the condition of the roads and the speed of the bus. However, the mountainous landscape really makes up for it.<br />
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We finally arrived to Sagada and were blown away by the quaint atmosphere and chill vibe that this place radiated.<br />
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We found a guesthouse near the bus station and started to explore. We had three goals for Sagada: to go caving, see hanging coffins and chill as much as humanly possible. Our first afternoon and evening, we did the third one hard.<br />
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The next day we arranged to do the cave connection, which is caving where you start at Sumaguing cave and finish at Lumiang cave, never coming to the surface in between.<br />
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At the caving office, it recommends that people who were out of shape or fat should not attempt this rigorous excursion, but we were two svelte young studs so we thought it would be a piece of cake.<br />
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Near the entrance of the first cave we saw what appeared to be a pile of coffins. At a closer glance, it was in fact a pile of coffins. Apparently the ancient inhabitants of these lands keep their dead near the mouth of the cave in order for them to "see the light" and be directed to heaven.<br />
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From there it got progressively darker, and we were now fully in the cave and would have to rely on our guide to get us out of there in one piece.<br />
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We passed many stalactites and stalagmites and many other rock formations. Some of these included a pseudo maple leaf that brought a patriotic tear to our eyes, as well as a rock formation that really resonated with the environment: that being dark, tight and wet.<br />
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We were underground for a few hours before finally approaching the opening of Lumiang cave. It was quite spectacular being able to traverse the earth without seeing the light of day for so long.<br />
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Once outside, I posed next to our first taste of the region's famed rice terraces with our guide and we made our way back to Sagada.<br />
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Once back to Sagada, we were immediately in search of the famed hanging coffins. The ancient inhabitants of this region, the Igorot tribe, have been doing this ritual for hundreds if not thousands of years. It was believed that it was done in order to keep the bodies closer to the spirits, but others speculate it could have been done to prevent ground water from seeping into the coffins or more interestingly, for keeping the coffins away from rival head-hunting tribes who would come in search of trophy heads. <br />
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Another interesting observation is that the coffins were around half the size of what we would consider normal sized adults. While I know Filipinos are among the shortest people in South East Asia, this was a little extreme. Then we thought that perhaps they only buried children in this manner, but that was also misguided. It turns out that people in this tribe buried their dead in the foetal position because they believed that they should leave this world as they entered it. Pretty amazing concept.<br />
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One of the highlights of our time in Sagada (at least for me) was Bana's cafe: a local cafe with balcony overlooking a gorge and coffee plantation. Not only did they have a beautiful view, but some of the best coffee I've had since Vietnam.<br />
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It was already time to leave wonderful Sagada, and also drawing closer to the time where Mike would no longer be my travelling partner.<br />
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We took a jeepney to Bontoc, a sleepy little transit town where I saw a woman with two thumbs. From there, we continued onto Banaue, our intended and final destination on our Philippine adventure. The scenery on this ride, and in the Cordillera region as a whole, was absolutely fantastic.<br />
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We arrived in the afternoon and checked into Uyami's Green View Lodge. The room we had was decent, but the view from the lodge's balcony was simply breathtaking. I must have taken a picture of that view with every possible lighting imaginable.<br />
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Banaue is the base for exploring the Ifugao rice terraces. These ancient rice terraces were built and carved into the mountains of the Ifugao mountains over 2000 years ago. They have been called the 8th wonder of the world by some (probably Filipinos), and are a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1995.<br />
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The Banuae rice terraces are featured on the 20 peso banknote but while researching for this post, they are not on the UNESCO list because of the modern reparations made to these ancient structures. UNESCO is obviously very difficult to please. I still find them immensely impressive.<br />
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Mike and I took a jeepney to Banaue's famed lookout point and took it all in. We had the great idea that instead of walking down the road like suckers we would walk through the terraces on our way back towards the town. It was all downhill so that should have been fairly straightforward. At least we thought it would be.<br />
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Every time we thought we were going in the right direction, we ended up at a dead end or impenetrable pass. It eventually became quite frustrating trying to figure out how to get down.<br />
<br />
Because it is still actively used in farming in this region, many of the terraces are submerged in water. While I motioned for Mike to step out onto the edge for an epic pic, he tried to step around me, and instead stepped into a huge puddle of mud and was knee deep in it. I laughed accordingly.<br />
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After wandering onto private property more times than we intended, we finally made it back onto the road down to Banaue, and just in time too, because it started absolutely pissing rain.<br />
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The following day we arranged to do a trek from the Banaue region to Batad, one of the actual UNESCO rated rice terraces.<br />
<br />
The walk there was absolutely stunning. Not only did we get to see the entire region only accessible by foot, but we also had a local guide who made sure that we didn't get lost or wander onto people's land.<br />
<br />
When we finally got our first glimpse of Batad, Mike and I were literally speechless. That's rare for Mike. He never shuts up. I would go in to a description, but I think the picture speaks for itself.<br />
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We stood and gazed at this marvellous mixture of natural and man-made wonder. Our guide then asked if we wanted to visit the Tappiya waterfall. Since it was hot as balls, we thought it was a no-brainer.<br />
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It was a piece of cake because it was all downhill and when we saw the impressive 30m falls, we could not have been any happier.<br />
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Seeing as though I was happy, Mike decided to rain on my parade. I asked if he could take a picture of me standing in front of the falls. Since he was already making his way into the water, he bluntly declined. The result is that weird angle shot of me using a self-timer and rock for balance. I can distinctly remember at that moment that I was happy he was leaving the next day.<br />
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<br />
That wasn't true. His time to leave the Philippines and his role as my travel buddy had finally come to an end. Our three-and-a-half month adventure through 5 countries (Vietnam, Malaysia, Singapore, Myanmar and the Philippines) had gone swimmingly well. The non-stop laughs and wise-cracks made this portion of my journey unforgettable and hilarious. Mike and I have travelled several times before this trip, and I hope we will continue to meet up elsewhere in the world in the future as well.<br />
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On my final day in the Philippines, I met an American traveller named Jeff and we did some small hikes between the villages of Tam-an, Poitan and Bocos. It was fun, but I was already missing Mike.<br />
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Now that I had reached my final day in the Philippines I can honestly say that this country blew my mind and exceeded all of my expectations (except for the food, I didn't find it anything special). I have barely scratched the surface of this 7000-island nation in the month-and-a-half that I was there. I decided that the best way to get over my sadness of not visiting every island, was to visit a country with 10,000 more islands than the Philippines. Next stop: Indonesia! <br />
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<br />Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-28020969116274921912017-02-06T20:05:00.002-08:002017-02-06T20:05:12.937-08:00Incredible Island HoppingMay 20th-June 3rd<br />
<br />
After waking up from Mike's 30th
birthday extravaganza, Mike and I decided that we had done Boracay right, but our heads and livers wrong.<br />
<br />
Not only were we done
with glorious Boracay and all the lovely things it had to offer, but our
standard 3-week Visa for the Philippines was coming to an end. We had
barely scratched the surface of what this island nation had to offer, so
before hitting the road we needed to get our visas extended.<br />
<br />
The
air conditioning in the government office was well worth the relatively
easy bureaucratic process required to get our extensions. We were now
ready to explore the wonderful central islands of the Philippines: The
Visayas.<br />
<br />
We made our way back to the jetty and took a
boat back to Caticlan. From Caticlan, we had to take another bus to
Roxas City. We had to get out there and then taxi to another bus
station, before taking yet another bus to Iloilo, our final destination
for the day, but not for this leg of the journey.<br />
<br />
We
arrived pretty late at night and ended up staying at a German-themed
restaurant and guesthouse. The food was quite good and a welcomed change
from the American and Filipino fare we were eating on Boracay.<br />
<br />
We
woke up really early the next morning and took another taxi to the
jetty, where we took a ferry to Bacolod, our point of entry onto Negros
Island. Once there, we took another long bus ride to our final, and
intended destination: Dumaguete.<br />
<br />
Dumaguete is the
capital of Negros Oriental province on Negros island, and it is home to
numerous universities, and as a consequence known as a trendy city rife
with excellent night-life. We were using it primarily as a base to
explore nearby Apo Island, one of the Philippines renown scuba diving
destinations.<br />
<br />
Like Iloilo, we arrived to Dumaguete at
night and immediately made our way to our intended accommodations,
Harold's Mansion Hostel. Unfortunately, it was completely booked, so we
found a nearby guesthouse where we stayed instead.<br />
<br />
We
still used Harold's Mansion as our dive operator, and Mike would be
commencing his Advanced PADI certification the following day, while I
opted to do some fun dives at Apo Island.<br />
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Apo island is
a small island 30-km south of Dumaguete and the water surrounding it is
a marine reserve. As a consequence, it has pristine diving conditions
and tourists flock here for both scuba diving and snorkelling.<br />
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To be honest, the boat ride there was just as enjoyable as the diving itself.<br />
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<br />
That
night, I befriended Dante from California and he made plans to go to
visit the Twin Lakes region of Negros island with three other girls and I
asked if I could tag along while Mike continued his Advanced diver
training. He agreed but I hope I wasn't cramping his style.<br />
<br />
The next day, we took a bus towards the town
of Sibulan and got off at a fork in the road. From there we walked a
short distance and were quickly approached by some guys on motorbikes.
The lakes were actually a 13km uphill ride and would be next to
impossible to reach on foot and even on motorbike if we were to do it
ourselves.<br />
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So it was me, Dante, one of the girls and the
driver on one bike and only 3 people on the other. The drive to the lake
was really rocky but provided us amazing views over the sea, and the
surprisingly close island of Cebu.<br />
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We eventually got to
the shore of Balinsasayao lake. It was quite tranquil and virtually
deserted. The others jumped right in, but I just chilled on the dock and
snapped some pics.<br />
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<br />
Even though it's called Twin lakes,
the other lake is only visible by kayak, so we only got to see the one.
My favourite part of the day was actually the treacherous ride to and
from the lakes and the beautiful views along the way.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
I
got back to Dumaguete in the late afternoon and spent my final time
there visiting the oldest-surviving structure in the city, the famed
bell tower. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkO8ApOr7EiI0afMc1ULFgLkm6HkSpq3nYqZbxA24qJ_khnjm8lO4C5IoBcMO1nBDTqaCDdH8tNAGjBG-rWYG5aMYn-JY_MDqxIjt8Gpx_lY9f6CG0bpZ4jj_zESh9KgEL-stUKXXrPk/s1600/DSC_0365.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkO8ApOr7EiI0afMc1ULFgLkm6HkSpq3nYqZbxA24qJ_khnjm8lO4C5IoBcMO1nBDTqaCDdH8tNAGjBG-rWYG5aMYn-JY_MDqxIjt8Gpx_lY9f6CG0bpZ4jj_zESh9KgEL-stUKXXrPk/s320/DSC_0365.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />
The following morning, Mike and I
got an early start to our next destination, the island of Bohol. We
arrived in Tagbilaran, found a guest house and dropped off our bags and
quickly found a trike driver who was willing to drive us to the
Philippine Tarsier Sanctuary.<br />
<br />
The diminutive tarsier, is
one of the world's smallest primates and only remains on a few islands
around the world. Threatened with extinction on the island of Bohol,
this wonderful sanctuary provides people with a chance to see these tiny
creatures in their natural habitat while protecting them from local and
introduced predators as well as the encroachment of man.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWlo8eCd3XwVQf1RRnQoaDnBvRzySJMiJoTdkgNSaeu9Zc_UFhoAa2uIwHs8gnanmlBrCYD8hUZ2qM6PoxRB5maJ5X9P_YbyQPhyphenhyphen8FhM_8G_w2X-DfCsSUx1zp8kjq4DoA-go45EZ2s-0/s1600/DSC_0371.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWlo8eCd3XwVQf1RRnQoaDnBvRzySJMiJoTdkgNSaeu9Zc_UFhoAa2uIwHs8gnanmlBrCYD8hUZ2qM6PoxRB5maJ5X9P_YbyQPhyphenhyphen8FhM_8G_w2X-DfCsSUx1zp8kjq4DoA-go45EZ2s-0/s320/DSC_0371.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Even
though there were guides literally pointing them out to us, we still
had a difficult time spotting them. Measuring between 8.5cm-16cm from
head to tail, these little guys are like tiny chameleons. <br />
<br />
They
are said to be Steven Spielberg's inspiration for ET. Even though they
were sleeping most of the time, when they opened their eyes, it was easy
to see why.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Once we were done at the sanctuary, our trike
driver left us off in Loboc, right across the street from Loboc church,
once considered as part of the Philippines UNESCO World Heritage listed
Baroque churches. After a mediocre lunch, we caught a bus towards
Bohol's biggest tourist draw: the Chocolate Hills.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lMyN0S_9FCFaCTRC0iap9VthMLZUqSKZizRnkKulWHHolvtvbNrl70Cu3spCjYOUDeAREVLyRlhn5tJh94jP0wxQQnwfYPHJhw9a4wgPxhSC2qyM1uM5t_MpYYGp6ZxUxTcf2CEzLTk/s1600/DSC_0394.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lMyN0S_9FCFaCTRC0iap9VthMLZUqSKZizRnkKulWHHolvtvbNrl70Cu3spCjYOUDeAREVLyRlhn5tJh94jP0wxQQnwfYPHJhw9a4wgPxhSC2qyM1uM5t_MpYYGp6ZxUxTcf2CEzLTk/s320/DSC_0394.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The
chocolate hills are a unique geological formation in central Bohol and
are characterized by 1260 rounded hills as far as the eye can see. They
are all covered by grass, which during the dry season turns a light
brown and hence the Chocolate hills.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPaJ-5RQMLTvKoDQoEUpIPu9ZDm3MetiGamDCdaUMDOn-e1-rpyyKbmJztj2yEJouDbAofP6XowwGYtbEU8dWqyDChx68wTAVIQK7A9af7L3AXYaa0In-OgsA48TimiaQbDG365_39cn0/s1600/DSC_0420.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPaJ-5RQMLTvKoDQoEUpIPu9ZDm3MetiGamDCdaUMDOn-e1-rpyyKbmJztj2yEJouDbAofP6XowwGYtbEU8dWqyDChx68wTAVIQK7A9af7L3AXYaa0In-OgsA48TimiaQbDG365_39cn0/s320/DSC_0420.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We were nearing the
start of the wet season so the hills which we witnessed were more of a
mint-chocolate variety, but still impressive none-the less.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6i_O5cx0UH8zQjWeFQ85xWUFizMD1NtZAZtkBXCVzSv5MHTlRr61ECck_HEsJP4A_LKHewz_zv4JSj-VzsWLKzl8ekAL5xfYlz5EBge8Unq65XQ60cZJ6sR3Vg3ZaLgIRp0Nh5C8KTGo/s1600/DSC_0406.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6i_O5cx0UH8zQjWeFQ85xWUFizMD1NtZAZtkBXCVzSv5MHTlRr61ECck_HEsJP4A_LKHewz_zv4JSj-VzsWLKzl8ekAL5xfYlz5EBge8Unq65XQ60cZJ6sR3Vg3ZaLgIRp0Nh5C8KTGo/s320/DSC_0406.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqwsnu5WdbgUmkdjgmS4akk434K_R9-404nUXuIeGiZNDtashPN_Kpk42s1yYNkxx3f7JjHXO6t5dNNQnaCIv3cs0DGYf7WvQDHy4DDp_mcpZEqwX9PmHwlVCAfX2hEcbrrVg235vjD-w/s1600/DSC_0438.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqwsnu5WdbgUmkdjgmS4akk434K_R9-404nUXuIeGiZNDtashPN_Kpk42s1yYNkxx3f7JjHXO6t5dNNQnaCIv3cs0DGYf7WvQDHy4DDp_mcpZEqwX9PmHwlVCAfX2hEcbrrVg235vjD-w/s320/DSC_0438.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Having
finished everything we intended to do on Bohol much quicker than we
expected, we decided we didn't in fact need to spend the night. We made
it back to the guest house where we had left our bags and cancelled our
booking. Mike, being the swell guy he was, agreed to pay the guy half of
our night's stay as payment for keeping our bags for us. I, being a
greedy bastard took offence to this kind gesture of his and we got in to
one of the few arguments we had during our time together. In hindsight,
Mike was right. They did us a favour and it only cost a few dollars, so
no big deal.<br />
<br />
We rushed to the ferry and managed to
catch the last boat headed for Cebu city. We arrived after dark and were
luckily able to grab a place to sleep at Tr3ats Guesthouse
(http://www.tr3ats.com). It was a very clean and nice hostel in a
not-so-nice looking part of town, but we were only there for one night
so it didn't really matter.<br />
<br />
We awoke early the next
morning and were already in a taxi on our way to the bus station, trying
to make it to our next destination before dark. We were hoping to make
it to the beautiful island of Malapascua, famed for white sand beaches,
and even more so for the incredible and rare thresher sharks that
inhabit the waters off its shores.<br />
<br />
We took a 4-hour bus ride to Maya and managed to make it to the jetty before the last <i>bangka </i>left for Malapascua. Within 30 minutes, we arrived on the sleepy, white-sand beach of Bounty Beach.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF9tsRgqqOFMv1B12Ao90xTzWqYCmjMwhgx_E8OfFFiyY1B5bgZoOGjvHXqWrL0fl9XgPf8LxJtTbMpjolMEGgpbqyFV4qFbgyokvs-cBW5i2NRJ74sFvwWzYbA_zMzqi5oQsYHtY97t4/s1600/DSC_0464.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF9tsRgqqOFMv1B12Ao90xTzWqYCmjMwhgx_E8OfFFiyY1B5bgZoOGjvHXqWrL0fl9XgPf8LxJtTbMpjolMEGgpbqyFV4qFbgyokvs-cBW5i2NRJ74sFvwWzYbA_zMzqi5oQsYHtY97t4/s320/DSC_0464.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We
managed to find a cheap place to stay and quickly looked around to find
a dive shop that would take us to see the famed thresher sharks. After
visiting various shops, we finally settled on Seapark Divers. They were
one of the more expensive dive operators on the island, but their
equipment, boat and Swedish dive master really seemed to sell them to
me. The dives even included the use of underwater cameras and this was a
definite plus. Not to mention, they were heading to the Monad Shoal the
following morning, the whole reason we had come to Malapascua.<br />
<br />
The
Monad Shoal is a cleaning station where larger underwater fish come to
be cleaned by smaller ones. The smaller creatures will eat parasites and
there is a beneficial symbiosis achieved by both animals.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1wsZeSteB7LjfEipMpw8nmsWCwTcmA60FcjgM0z9p6_EdbcUXr8JfmV1GFj_FPOHaUtcZ13vJdfbUI0HUBvVeGUrGzh3ZgngpTo-xXA6Kpzb_zl-f5rCyZnqjNDFkiet_u5ZZ2u28VXM/s1600/DSC_0480.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1wsZeSteB7LjfEipMpw8nmsWCwTcmA60FcjgM0z9p6_EdbcUXr8JfmV1GFj_FPOHaUtcZ13vJdfbUI0HUBvVeGUrGzh3ZgngpTo-xXA6Kpzb_zl-f5rCyZnqjNDFkiet_u5ZZ2u28VXM/s320/DSC_0480.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
This
is actually the only place in the world where thresher sharks can be
seen regularly. In fact, the dive shop gave us a 70-90% chance we were
going to see them. We loved those odds.<br />
<br />
The thresher shark
is distinctive in that it has a long sickle-like tail which can in fact
be the same length as its entire body. It also uses this tail to stun
its prey before eating it. Pretty bad ass.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcCMTgEMcVHubqnt4lLRlRhSsOCWE5V53yLQIzgdmSojTA25KnPneJUvzVKJNJoXbXkRrlTJmODVKVIEarIJNZ8JdnzowEkLLenDosLXCvfpTXTXpwiIfDLt5Kvd5O0hk7B7O2GtAuY0/s1600/Seapark+Malapascua+%2528121%2529.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcCMTgEMcVHubqnt4lLRlRhSsOCWE5V53yLQIzgdmSojTA25KnPneJUvzVKJNJoXbXkRrlTJmODVKVIEarIJNZ8JdnzowEkLLenDosLXCvfpTXTXpwiIfDLt5Kvd5O0hk7B7O2GtAuY0/s320/Seapark+Malapascua+%2528121%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Photo Credit: Denice Askebrink)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
In order
to be successful in our dive, we needed to leave early. Like be on the
water at 5:30am early. Of course, everyone was ready on time, except our
dive master (not the Swedish lady) and we were sitting around
waiting for him to get his ass in gear.<br />
<br />
Of course, because
of our frenetic pace, and my non-chill attitude when it came to
depending on others to achieve my goals, I was furious with the guy.<br />
<br />
He
finally came and we made our way to the site, a good 7.8km away. The
dive itself was rather boring in that we essentially jumped into the
water, quickly descended to 35m (115 feet), grabbed onto a rope and
waited for the thresher sharks to appear.<br />
<br />
Having arrived
late, I was frantically worried that we had already missed them, but as
we stared straight ahead of us, into the semi-murky water, a creature
with a fantastically long tail quickly emerged.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJnAFJ98DQJFF08KTpGgD1AHwi9phR02QbxqdwCOpi4PJzguGCjaXGoJU7OLQdsd27PFJXZBdNJeNs5KYfcl8eqY73hhsMfTHV9O6qVT9psaNHnDVQWzXtsfQgerrXyBI6JnVbsw1u9k4/s1600/Seapark+Malapascua+%2528124%2529.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJnAFJ98DQJFF08KTpGgD1AHwi9phR02QbxqdwCOpi4PJzguGCjaXGoJU7OLQdsd27PFJXZBdNJeNs5KYfcl8eqY73hhsMfTHV9O6qVT9psaNHnDVQWzXtsfQgerrXyBI6JnVbsw1u9k4/s320/Seapark+Malapascua+%2528124%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Photo Credit: Denice Askebrink) </div>
<br />
Now I'm
not sure if it was the same shark we had seen multiple times, or several
different thresher sharks, but either way, it was definitely a sight to
behold.<br />
<br />
We stayed under as long as we were permitted
before our air ran out, and headed to the surface. Mike had a difficult
equalizing on his way down and was in a good deal of discomfort. To add
insult to injury, he got bit by a jellyfish in the face on his way up,
while I escaped unscathed. Sucks to be him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
The rest of the afternoon, we
just chilled on the beach and worked on our tans, completely content
with our thresher shark experience. What was nice about Malapascua, is
that it had more of a local, Filipino feel and it was great walking down
the beach at sunset and seeing the families playing in the water.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG1ZiElCXM9sXFGSNUeil9o9GZcsSE8wUWrb9l4KTpPQaYtc3QNbJm0-XsXYukC_cbQlkQuyIgHBYh0tCUyWQ0GogciJcp3_heqFN9S92h1U3Vr2ZVgtaSFa6raulMRUcSjoxIYAgHfcY/s1600/DSC_0485.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG1ZiElCXM9sXFGSNUeil9o9GZcsSE8wUWrb9l4KTpPQaYtc3QNbJm0-XsXYukC_cbQlkQuyIgHBYh0tCUyWQ0GogciJcp3_heqFN9S92h1U3Vr2ZVgtaSFa6raulMRUcSjoxIYAgHfcY/s320/DSC_0485.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The
following morning, we took an early ferry and were back on a bus
towards Cebu city. We ended up staying at Tr3ats again because there
really wasn't anything wrong with the place. I had a very ambitious plan
for the following day, to visit Oslob and its famed <i>butanding. </i>Yes that's right, they also have whale sharks!<br />
<br />
So
what my day trip entailed was a 3.5 hour bus ride to and from Oslob, on the
island of Cebu, where I would get off at Tan-awan and make my way to the
beach.<br />
<br />
As I approached the beach, the waves were crashing like crazy and there were only a few little boats in the water at the time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAtahovDpkw8cP9cxpgHo3FV5zZJhsxo0n0Tr7HxOCI_VpqB52RQm4E74qg3913aKDCqQd-HevF2XmIRfsQ-sjj5PQKhE0W6XNnIQdlsSNPmyG5KQVhDnhLSaLqsNnKv3Li6IJDXCjTI/s1600/DSC_0499.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAtahovDpkw8cP9cxpgHo3FV5zZJhsxo0n0Tr7HxOCI_VpqB52RQm4E74qg3913aKDCqQd-HevF2XmIRfsQ-sjj5PQKhE0W6XNnIQdlsSNPmyG5KQVhDnhLSaLqsNnKv3Li6IJDXCjTI/s320/DSC_0499.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I
paid the entrance fee, was given a mask and snorkel and made my way to
the shore. I hopped on a tiny boat and was taken maybe 10-15m from the
shore. The water was surprisingly choppy. The water was too murky to see
in but the guy in the boat told me to jump in. As soon as I entered the
water I was literally face to face with a massive whale shark swimming
right towards me, his mouth agape, seemingly trying to swallow me whole
like the plankton around them.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I know they aren't
carnivores, but when you see this humongous fish coming straight for
you, you can't help being a little scared. Once I realized that they
weren't going to eat me, I spent the rest of my time swimming with them
and observing them. A lot of the guys on the little boats were actually
feeding them shrimp, so some of them were even vertical.<br />
<br />
I
was told that the water was 15 meters deep, and one of these sharks was
at the surface, and its tail was only a few meters from the bottom,
meaning that it must have been at least 10m (33ft) long!<br />
<br />
Because
of the choppiness of the water and the impending storm that was
brewing, there were barely any other people in the water. I am not
exaggerating when I say that there were more whale sharks in the water
than people. I really wish I had an underwater camera that could have
captured this amazing and unique moment.<br />
<br />
Now a few
things to know about this experience. These whale sharks had always been
coming to the area because of the abundance of plankton. Once local
fishermen discovered their presence, they started feeding them to ensure
that they would return day after day. Now there are quite a few people
who have boycotted this place because of this practice of feeding them
and their apparent exploitation for profit.<br />
<br />
Now I do
understand that these animals have grown accustomed to being fed, but
being seen as a profitable venture to fishermen means that they will
not be hunted for shark fin soup, or trophy fishing or anything else
that would have them killed. While I know it isn't as exciting as
driving around in a boat for hours in search of an elusive 30 second
experience, I think that this still has its merits and benefits the
local community while not harming the animals themselves.<br />
<br />
After
my 20-minute swim was over, I was actually asked a series of questions,
from a few western girls working for a whale shark conservation
project. They wanted to know what I thought of the experience and how it
could be made better or safer for the animals. In all, I would recommend
Oslob to everyone except perhaps PETA supporters.<br />
<br />
While I
was gone for the whole day, Mike had visited a sweaty local gym and
seen some of the sights that Cebu City had to offer. That night, our
friend Jack from Boracay and his friend Cedric from Sweden were hitting
up the town, and Mike was down to party. I decided to sit this one out
and get a good night sleep.<br />
<br />
The following day, Mike and I
were off to the airport for a flight to Palawan, our next island
destination. Seeing as though the boat ride takes 28-30 hours from
Manila, this flight was our best option.<br />
<br />
Palawan is one of
the most remote parts of the Philippines that we visited, but is currently on the verge of
becoming a major tourist draw in the country with foreigners. It is renown for it's
pristine beaches, diving, and untouched ecosystems. Because we had
somewhat limited time, we needed to rush to the island's signature
destination: El Nido.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUJ2gSeLvBLqf68KGsS62B_H5FvTkcHPSeGO-54lhFpC2h8WoAKCzOXdrCBH2-sc8m__X1G5xTG93eM_WZ_G_5dm5GqZQBq9SL818vEAUbOPV9s-G7cTEvoUWohUR9UJvCURz4vXoleZw/s1600/DSC_0509.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUJ2gSeLvBLqf68KGsS62B_H5FvTkcHPSeGO-54lhFpC2h8WoAKCzOXdrCBH2-sc8m__X1G5xTG93eM_WZ_G_5dm5GqZQBq9SL818vEAUbOPV9s-G7cTEvoUWohUR9UJvCURz4vXoleZw/s320/DSC_0509.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
From the airport in Puerto
Princessa, we took a non-air conditioned bus for a nauseating eight
hours before finally rolling up to El Nido. We took a trike to the town
itself and were quite surprised by the beachfront and accommodations
that were available. We managed to find a guesthouse within our price
range with one minor inconvenience: our room contained a bathroom where
pretty much all of the other guests had to share the same shower. That
evening, we just enjoyed the sunset and admired the view from our
guest-house's beautiful patio.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
El Nido, or the nest in
Spanish, is named after the tiny swiftlet birds that occupy the massive
limestone cliffs surrounding the area. These karst cliffs comprise the
beautiful Bacuit Archipelago. This archipelago is composed of 45 unique
islets and islands. Many different companies offer various boat
excursions to the various islands, all you need to do is pick which
lettered itinerary suits your fancy.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtgYdOtzLWkLVdepZrcSEScWSq6GsYR9zPWPttF3pelJlacs6TRHtS7kkdHtssqbgX4dmVzhNiDLb8QIgBkagcjUVAHh1-Yjkwvlnn-6PfSe7vqoOTnOhMtvbyGP1PcYi3-zWk6YuDqiU/s1600/DSC_0712.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtgYdOtzLWkLVdepZrcSEScWSq6GsYR9zPWPttF3pelJlacs6TRHtS7kkdHtssqbgX4dmVzhNiDLb8QIgBkagcjUVAHh1-Yjkwvlnn-6PfSe7vqoOTnOhMtvbyGP1PcYi3-zWk6YuDqiU/s320/DSC_0712.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We decided to start
with itinerary A. We met at the dock at around 9am. Our boat was quite
comfortable and we were joined with a group of people from several
different backgrounds, including Canadians.<br />
<br />
Our first
stops were all lagoon related: small lagoon, big lagoon and the Secret
lagoon, which required swimming through a narrow tunnel and emerging in a
shallow lagoon on the other side.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhyphenhyphenX-XHSAq5H-N7mecJA3h01NoL2qOrFKY_IxTZP7tnAqKxQVqfa9xqxhHUt2jgISmMCXr8XswbHXNRWTsCQdOWkxU-4rv-gT7vRNF9qirVPdGfM-Cuh0su8Cgywp2x8B2SAgSeUpm_xo/s1600/DSC_0606.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhyphenhyphenX-XHSAq5H-N7mecJA3h01NoL2qOrFKY_IxTZP7tnAqKxQVqfa9xqxhHUt2jgISmMCXr8XswbHXNRWTsCQdOWkxU-4rv-gT7vRNF9qirVPdGfM-Cuh0su8Cgywp2x8B2SAgSeUpm_xo/s320/DSC_0606.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
These were beautiful locations made less beautiful by too many Korean tourists making way too much noise and disturbing me.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0hGx02EEF5nozR41m2WUpC-U7WLMeiu1o1uBwZYrE-Yb8cjQi35oe9HJ6YYOp3eTIJQBKbLqIMY0UIsoHRdFwEFyf6piIxVyQbD0CcTIETNqDrOVgd36oazKnVlHXrVGekZdlnp_KDW4/s1600/DSC_0660.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0hGx02EEF5nozR41m2WUpC-U7WLMeiu1o1uBwZYrE-Yb8cjQi35oe9HJ6YYOp3eTIJQBKbLqIMY0UIsoHRdFwEFyf6piIxVyQbD0CcTIETNqDrOVgd36oazKnVlHXrVGekZdlnp_KDW4/s320/DSC_0660.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We then went to Shimizu Island for an incredible lunch and got to talk to some of the people on our excursion.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Our final stop of the day was to 7 Commando Beach where we could take advantage of a cash bar and snorkel with sea turtles.<br />
<br />
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<br />
While it doesn't seem like we saw that much, this whole excursion still took a full 7 hours. Well worth it though!<br />
<br />
The
following day, we opted for tour C. This tour started with the aptly
named helicopter island. If you used your imagination, you could kind of
see the island's resemblance to the aforementioned vehicle.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzm6phFrMpbJOxfNgi-eY9yUxSXsrUBJetosFJ36rbncSV6rkv7IjBKxJ-nh-U3ZAnrsI2-q_5_boW_9u2J5-WqsEutdZIw6yQLeDokuHGHGtk2A8HLRJc39-VClPAAGwkvhWqAUt7iY/s1600/DSC_0704.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzm6phFrMpbJOxfNgi-eY9yUxSXsrUBJetosFJ36rbncSV6rkv7IjBKxJ-nh-U3ZAnrsI2-q_5_boW_9u2J5-WqsEutdZIw6yQLeDokuHGHGtk2A8HLRJc39-VClPAAGwkvhWqAUt7iY/s320/DSC_0704.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
From there we visited the Matinloc shrine. This place used to house a convent and a school, and is now rumoured to be haunted.<br />
<br />
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<br />
After
lunch, our destinations were of the beach variety: Secret beach, star
beach and the hidden beach.<br />
<br />
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<br />
What is most of note from this experience, is
that while Mike and I were swimming in the open sea next to the boat, all of a sudden a storm rolled
in from out of nowhere and brought torrential downpours and gale force
winds, almost propelling the boat into a nearby karst cliff. It would
definitely be pretty scary on the boat, and a number of passengers were
noticeably shaken up when we got back on board, but it was rather
amazing to swim during this intense yet brief storm.<br />
<br />
After
everyone was accounted for, we headed back to El Nido. Besides island
hoping, Mike and I had the privilege of meeting up with Megan and Steph
from our crew in Boracay. While the partying wasn't nearly as epic as in
Boracay, we still had our fair share of beach parties and drinks.<br />
<br />
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<br />
After 4 full nights in El Nido, we were on to our final central island destination: the island of Coron.<br />
Coron is reputed for its phenomenal wreck diving, because on September 24th, 1944, a US navy fleet attacked and sunk a Japanese supply fleet of up to 24 ships. This site is the reason Mike did his Advanced diver training in Apo island.<br />
<br />
From El Nido harbour, we took a small ferry to Coron town on the island of Busuanga. While intended to be a passenger ferry, it was still incredibly scenic because you get to pass many of the karst islands we passed on our excursions.<br />
<br />
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<br />
The whole ride took around 8-hours and we eventually approached the distant island. We started to explore the town in search of accommodations and were quite surprised by the amount of real estate built up on stilts. Visibility was pretty poor by this point and we had to use flashlights to make sure we didn't fall into the ocean.<br />
<br />
We ended up staying at Coron Backpacker Guesthouse (www.palawan-coron-backpacker.com), which actually turned out to be quite nice.<br />
<br />
We also found a dive operator to explore the nearby wrecks and decided to go with Seadive Resort. They had a great boat and a great location right on the water.<br />
<br />
We had opted to do a 3-dive package and the following morning, we were on our way to our first wreck: Akitshushima. The Akitshushima is a 118m long seaplane tender, and would be our introduction to the Japanese fleet sunk on September 24th, 1944.<br />
<br />
The maximum depth was 36m and we saw lots of schools of fish.<br />
<br />
Our next stop was the Taiei Maru, a 170m Japanese tanker. This was by far my favourite dive of the day. It was a hauntingly beautiful swim through with extremely low visibility. Mike and I stayed glued to our dive master because if we were to have separated from him, we would surely have died a watery death like the Japanese sailors on that fateful day. <br />
<br />
Our final dive of the day was the shallow Tirukaze Maru, a Japanese submarine hunter. This dive was great because not only was it closer to the surface and provided great visibility, but it is also submerged next to a reef providing a vast array of underwater life surrounding its structure.<br />
<br />
This was a phenomenal day of diving capping a beyond phenomenal time in the central islands of the Visayas and Palawan. Unfortunately our time here had come to an end, but we definitely made the most of it. Next stop: the North of Luzon! <br />
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<br />Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-19774146535898967412017-01-25T14:41:00.001-08:002017-01-25T14:41:49.782-08:00The Philippines: Wraparound Oakley's, Whale Sharks, Volcanoes and the Greatest 30th Birthday I Have Ever Witnessed. May 2nd-May 19th<br />
<br />
Mike and I were pretty drained upon our return from Myanmar. 15 days of non-stop temples, pagodas and never-ending night buses is enough to tire even the most robust of travellers. Most of our day back in KL was spent just chilling out and eating some delicious Malaysian cuisine.<br />
<br />
We also started to plan what we wanted to do in our next destination: The Philippines. Air Asia is a low-cost airline based in Malaysia and it is absolutely ridiculous how cheap you can find flights pretty much anywhere you want to go in the region.<br />
<br />
Air Asia didn't fly directly to Manila, the capital of the Philippines, but it did fly to a city north called Angeles City. Since it would be our introduction to the country, we decided to spend a night and get a feel for what we were in for.<br />
<br />
Nothing could have prepared us for what this city had in store.<br />
<br />
We flew into Clark International airport. This airport used to be an American air force base from 1908 until 1991. At a time it was the largest US air base outside of the continental United States.<br />
<br />
Due to the near constant presence of American soldiers for so many years, Angeles quickly became the Philippines' Sin City, providing the servicemen with whatever "entertainment" their hearts desired.<br />
<br />
We took a bus from the airport and were dropped off in the city. A short walk brought us to our hostel, the lazily named Friendship Budget Hotel. Now with all the amazing accommodation we were used to across South East Asia, this place looked like it was slapped together at the last minute and tried to sell itself as Angeles' only Hostel, which I think it actually was at the time.<br />
<br />
Inside we were welcomed by the hostel owner, a Dutch chef. He sat us down and explained what Angeles had to offer. Essentially he told us that Angeles is the prostitution capital of the Philippines. He didn't seem too disturbed with the idea, but it seemed like his slender male Filipino employee was more than just an employee, so I guess he had his pleasures as well. Even though the American soldiers have departed, they have been replaced by old white men looking to have sex with barely legal Filipinas, and I really wouldn't be surprised if many were underage as well. The nearby Fields Avenue is where there are countless Go-Go bars, dance clubs and casinos where you can literally sleep with anyone you want for the right price. <br />
<br />
Our hostel was practically empty except for 2 Brits and 2 other Canadians, Mitch from Calgary and Dylan from Montreal. These guys were younger than us, but both had pretty impressive travel resumes. Mike and I were pretty stoked that we would be a group of Canadians hitting up the town that night, and Mitch and Dylan had already been out the night before and told is that it's pretty wild out there.<br />
<br />
While it was still daylight, we walked around a bit and got a feel for the town. What struck me was the sheer number of older, pot-bellied white men wearing wraparound Oakley sunglasses and having a slender young Filipina on their arm. While some (very few) did seem to have married them and had some convincing proof (mixed-race children), by in large it looked more like older men creepily draping themselves over some poor girl with no other options to make a living.<br />
<br />
Walking around, we were the right colour, but we were easily 20 years younger than the next closest in age among tourists here.<br />
<br />
That evening, the four of us were ready for a night on the town and made our way to Fields Avenue. We started the night off at a small restaurant serving cheap, ice-cold beers and some pretty basic food.<br />
The 5-minute walk from the drop off point to the restaurant was an eye-opening experience: there were literally hundreds of women soliciting in the streets, grabbing at your crotch, offering you any form of perversion your heart desired. In between every group of aggressive women, was a shop advertising Viagra, cigarettes and booze. This made the Patpong district in Bangkok seem like a children's' amusement park in comparison.<br />
<br />
Once we were nice and boozed, we proceeded to walk up and down Fields Avenue, dodging the grabbing hands of the prostitutes and jokingly asking some of them how much for the most depraved acts we could think of.<br />
<br />
We finally went into a 3-floor establishment that was essentially a vending machine for women. The Wraparound Oakley-wearing types were salivating and choosing whomever they thought would be best for the evening or week-long foray of lechery, while we were merely bystanders to this spectacle. The excitement was so much, that I proceeded to fall asleep in my seat. When I woke up, I headed back to the hostel and went to sleep.<br />
<br />
The following morning I found out that the other guys had some pretty funny stories to tell. Mike and Mitch had gone to a bar and rang a bell that means you are supposed to buy a round for everyone. Instead they just rang the bell and bolted out of the place as fast as they could.<br />
<br />
Dylan on the other hand, had the most elaborate story of the night. At one point he realized that one of the lovely ladies of the night had stolen his wallet without him noticing. Without hesitation, she quickly jumped onto a bus and was making her getaway. Meanwhile, two other prostitutes saw this and joined Dylan on a tricycle (a Filipino form of transportation, usually a motorbike with a side car).<br />
<br />
So here is Dylan and two prostitutes, all in a sidecar, chasing down another prostitute in a bus who just stole his wallet. They finally got the bus to pull over and confronted this woman. He did get his wallet back, but he still left her a bit of money. I mean, who wouldn't pay a tip for an amazing story like that. Only in Angeles!<br />
<br />
The next morning, we groggily said goodbye to our Canadian friends and made our way to the bus station. Mike and I got there in a Jeepney: a converted jeep that now acts as the most common means of local transportation in the Philippines. While in the Jeepney, Mike noticed a shady character with his arm behind Mike, but thought nothing of it. He soon noticed after exiting the Jeepney, that his backpack was open and his Ipod was missing. Angeles takes another victim.<br />
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We got to Manila and were instantly taken aback by how urban it felt. Like this was a proper city, not proper in the clean sense of the word because it was in fact really dirty, but it had a grit about it that was instantly palpable. I clenched my wallet tightly while taking the LRT to our hostel, the amazing Pink Hostel Manila (http://www.pinkmanilahostel.com). This was a party hostel in the most pure sense of the word: rooftop pool, tv area and scores of young people just looking for a great time. We felt right at home. <br />
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That evening we met Bilee, a Filipina who was staying at or working for the Pink Hostel, I'm not sure, but either way she was awesome and invited us to do a walking tour of Manila the next day.<br />
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Before going on the walking tour, Mike and I and Serena from Nanjing, China, who we met at the hostel, made our way to an arena to watch a traditional Filipino sporting event called <i>Sabong.</i><br />
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This may not sound familiar to anyone, but I'm sure everyone is aware of it by its English name: cockfighting. Not only is it perfectly legal in the Philippians, but it is extremely popular. We were sitting in an arena with several hundred people all screaming for some cock's blood.<br />
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Being the only foreigners in the arena, we were treated like royalty. We were seated near the front and were greeted by all the local fans sitting around us. Even the <i>kristo </i>(bet taker) tried to get us in on the action. The only downside is pictures weren't allowed so I have to rely on my story telling skills.<br />
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One thing that makes this sport particularly brutal is that each cock is outfitted with <i>gaffs,</i> or razor blades attached to their already sharp talons. So when they go at each other, you are guaranteed to see blood; lots and lots of blood.<br />
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Depending on the precision of the victorious rooster, the fight could result in the instantaneous death of the other, or a slower, more agonizing death, which seemed to be the more common result. After watching several rounds of roosters convulsing in the ring from fatal cuts to vital organs or arteries, we decided that our vital organs could only take so much brutality before wanting to throw up in the stands. We smiled politely, and made our way to the exits.<br />
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If my memory serves me correctly, we were told that there is often a large barbecue after these events, where the losing cocks are eaten and mourned simultaneously. So sad, so brutal, yet so delicious.<br />
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Once back at the hostel, we met up with Bilee and some other backpackers and made our way to Manila's biggest attraction: <i>Intramuros.</i><br />
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<i>Intramuros </i>is a walled-city that was the capital of Spanish Manila. The stone walls were constructed in 1590 and remain mostly intact to this day. The Spanish have had a long history and influence in the country, even the name Philippians was derived from King Philip II of Spain. The Spanish expedition, led by Magellan, first arrived in 1521 and by 1571, Islamic Manila was defeated and became the capital of the Spanish East Indies.<br />
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We explored the grounds and visited Fort Santiago, the site's signature destination.<br />
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From there we visited the Rizal shrine, the place where Jose Rizal was incarcerated as he awaited execution. Jose Rizal is a, if not THE national hero of the Philippines. He was a key figure among the Filipino Propaganda Movement, which advocated for independence from the Spanish colonialists.<br />
Many statues, parks, and universities in the city are named after him. He was executed in the city by the Spanish in 1896.<br />
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From there we walked past the Cathedral of Manila, and made our way to San Agustin Church, a UNESCO World Heritage site. There was a Hello Kitty-themed wedding going on inside the church, so our view of the interior was extremely limited. Another legacy of the Spanish is Catholicism (not Hello Kitty). Over 80% of the Philippines identifies as Roman Catholic, and it was in front of this church that we learned that it is in fact illegal to get a divorce in the country. They are so Catholic, that during Easter, you can see Filipinos literally nailing themselves to crosses and being paraded through the streets.<br />
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We continued our walking tour through Manila's Chinatown, where we grabbed a bite to eat. That night, Bilee chartered a Jeepney for the whole hostel, and we all made our way to a cool bar with a live band. A great time was had by all!<br />
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The following day, Mike and I had an ambitious day trip planned. We wanted to visit Taal Volcano, the inception of Volcanoes. It is a volcano in a lake, with a lake in the crater of the volcano; and seemed too cool to be missed.<br />
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We got on a bus to Tagatay and then hopped on a tricycle towards Talisay, the village on Taal Lake's shore. Just the views on the winding road down towards the shore already made the trip worthwhile.<br />
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Once in Talisay, we had to bargain to get a <i>bangka </i>(traditional boat) across to the Volcano itself.<br />
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It was a blisteringly hot day, and we had the option to walk up to the crater or take a horse. Being cheapskates, we opted for the walk. The 45-minute walk was well worth it. We were treated to amazing views and as a bonus, we purchased a few golf balls at 1$ USD a piece to drive them into the crater. <br />
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The following day, we found out some very unfortunate news about another Volcano in the area. On May 7th, 2013, Mount Mayon, an active Volcano erupted unexpectedly and killed 5 hikers near its crater. Besides being tragic, this is very significant because Mike and I had originally planned on hiking it a mere two days after its fatal eruption. The travel gods were really looking out for us.<br />
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We decided we were still going to visit the Volcano, but would only view it from afar. First we had bigger fish to fry. In fact we were going to hopefully swim with the world's largest fish, the Whale Shark.<br />
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We made our way to Donsol on Luzon's southeastern tip and found a luxurious yet empty guesthouse. The main draw of Donsol, a small fishing village, is the <i>butanding</i>, the Filipino word for whale sharks.<br />
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Since we arrived early in the morning, we were able to hop on a boat tour and were quickly in search of these massive yet docile creatures. We circled around for quite some time before the scout sitting high up on the mast told our group that he could see one. As I missed my chance to see these amazing creatures three years before in Mozambique because of the action of one selfish American girl, and again in Thailand when practically everyone I met saw one except Josh and myself; I wasn't going to miss another.<br />
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The boat slowed down and told us to prepare ourselves for the brief yet unique experience. We put on our masks, snorkels and fins, and were anxiously waiting to get in the water. When the captain gave the word, we would all start swimming with all of our might and try to keep up with these gentle giants.<br />
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Besides getting kicked in the head by Korean tourists, I was actually able to swim up to one of these amazing creatures, and swim along side it for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only around 30 seconds or so.<br />
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We got back in the boat and attempted to find others, but I considered this already a mission accomplished.<br />
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With a huge smile on my face from finally seeing and swimming with a whale shark, Mike and I made our way to Legazpi, the city closest to Mount Mayon, the deadly volcano I had mentioned before.<br />
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We made our way to Lingon Hill, which provided us with amazing views of Mount Mayon, while being far enough away that it posed no danger to us whatsoever. Unfortunately, the actual lookout platform was under construction, but I still sneaked onto it to snap the best pics.<br />
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Mount Mayon is renown for its perfect cone-shape and looks like the quintessential volcano. After taking a few photos from the platform and again from the bus station with inappropriate smiles considering 5 people were killed there just two days before, we got on a night bus headed for Batangas, our gateway to the island of Mindoro.<br />
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We took our first ferry in the Philippines and it was rather enjoyable. After a few hours, we approached our destination, Puerto Galera.<br />
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Puerto Galera may not be the nicest beach in the Philippines, but it is a well developed and very popular diving destination, our reason for visiting.<br />
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What we weren't expecting was that it had very much the same vibe as Angeles, that being the quantity of wraparound Oakley's and young Filipinas was rather elevated.<br />
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The diving was excellent and as were the accommodations and restaurants, which catered primarily to wealthy white men.<br />
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After a few days of diving, we decided it was time to get our party on. We took a number of ferries and made our way to Caticlan on Panay Island, the base for the Philippines' most popular, most touristy and arguably most beautiful island, Boracay. On the night-ferry from Batangas to Caticlan, we ended up meeting Craig, another Canadian from Kamloops BC, and agreed to meet up again in Boracay.<br />
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Once we arrived in Boracay, Mike and I foolishly opted to walk to the beach to save some money, but even in the morning it was crazy hot and the sweat was flowing almost immediately.<br />
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After an arduous and longer than expected walk, we finally reached station 3: the sleepy, laid-back portion of Boracay's 4-km white beach. We walked along the beautiful, white-sand beach and found our lodging for the first portion of our stay, White Beach Divers. While the accommodations were nothing to write home about (steamy bamboo bunks with little to no air circulation), we were there to party and dive, so it wasn't that important if the price was right.<br />
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We ended up diving two days there, and the first day we discovered that diving with a hangover was really not that fun, and it would be best avoided in the future. On the second day, we visited Crocodile island. While it didn't have any actual crocodiles, it had something equally ferocious: the Trigger fish. This fish is extremely territorial and will attack if it or its nest is threatened. I guess I got too close and the fish came straight for me and bit my fins. It was attacking me for what seemed like forever, until I kicked it in the face enough to scare it off.<br />
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It was also during this time that we met up again with Craig. He had a similar experience with a trigger fish, only he wasn't as lucky as I was and he was actually bitten by one and it drew blood on his ankle. It has these big buck teeth that really don't look too enjoyable to penetrate your skin.<br />
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We also had the pleasure of meeting Tobias, or Toby as he was nicknamed, from Sweden and all of us partied it up on the daily. One night at dinner, we saw Mitch and Dylan, who we had met in Angeles, walking down the beach and our crew had expanded even more!<br />
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Our first night with Mitch and Dylan culminated in a wrestling match between Mike and Myself, which I thought I would easily win. Mike, despite his scrawny appearance, actually ended up being quite strong and he beat me pretty easily. We built up the fight, but it was all show and no go on my part.<br />
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To make up for it, I was challenged by a Japanese-Canadian female wrestler from western Canada, and proceeded to redeem my loss to Mike. I may have weighed 60 pounds more than her, but I'm pretty sure I won by pure skill.<br />
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Station 3 was the most laid-back and quiet portion of White Beach, and after 3 nights, we decided rather than walking a few kilometres towards station 1 and 2 every night, we would just stay at a place closer to the action.<br />
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We managed to get a room at station 2's party palace, Frendz Resort and Hostel (www.frendzresortboracay.com). As soon as we checked-in, we felt the instant energy change between the sleepy feel of Station 3, and the frenetic pace of Station 2. Within a few minutes of being there, we met Megan from Toronto and Stephanie from Cali.<br />
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As the days past, we ended up amassing a progressively larger crew, including a large contingent of Brits: James, Jack and Jessica, the latter I joined on a trip to Mount Luho, a beautiful lookout point over Boracay.<br />
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Most of our days were spent just lounging on the beach and the evenings partying our faces off. All of this was leading up to what would become the most epic party of our stay, if not the entire trip: Mike's 30th birthday celebration.<br />
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I took it upon myself to recruit everyone we knew and everyone else who wanted to go to Ariel's Point, the ultimate party spot in Boracay (in my opinion). Ariel's point is a series of cliffs off Buruanga on the island of Panay. What adds to this excursion is that not only is it a booze cruise with a barbecue lunch, but that it also offers kayaking, snorkelling and most importantly, cliff jumping.<br />
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So our crew was Mike and myself, Mitch (unfortunately Dylan had to leave earlier and he missed out on this epic day), Craig, Toby, Megan, Stephanie, Bilee (yes that Bilee, she ended up coming down to Boracay as well), Jack, Mira from Germany, Eugene from South Korea, Iwona from Poland and a few others who I lost their names and nationalities in the years that have passed since this epic day.<br />
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We all walked along the beach towards Station 1, the ritziest part of white beach and purchased our bracelets for the trip. On the way we passed Boracay's iconic Willy's Rock.<br />
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We got on the boat and proceeded to get our party on almost immediately. It took some time to get each drink because there were so many people on the boat and so few people serving drinks. This was probably a good thing in retrospect seeing as though it was a 5-hour plus all-you-can drink event.<br />
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We arrived at Ariel's Point and made our way up some stairs towards the famed cliffs. There were different heights of diving boards and even the shortest one, 3 meters (almost 10 feet) looked pretty daunting at first.<br />
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As the drinks continued to flow, so did the liquid courage, and attempts were made at higher and higher diving boards. I was mildly tipsy when I attempted the 8 meter (26 foot) board which provided the most epic jumping pic of the day.<br />
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Not only was this an amazingly beautiful location, but the music and food were great. Behind the cliffs was a natural pool that we hung out at when we felt like taking a breather. It was in this pool that I met Jason, a guy from Brunei, who I had convinced to let me stay with him when I would eventually make it there. He said to ask him on couchsurfing and he would accept.<br />
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Near the end of the day, my confidence level was at an all-time high (due to booze) and it was time to face the music, aka the highest diving board of the day, the 15m (49 feet) board. As I approached the edge of the plank of wood, I instantly regretted my decision. This was high. Scary high.<br />
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I raised my arms above my head and clasped my hands in some sort of prayer and closed my eyes, trying to collect my thoughts and say my last rites. I opened my eyes and decided that it was now or never. Since I would probably never return to this magical setting, and probably wouldn't want to jump off a cliff this high if it wasn't for my progressive intoxication, so I decided that the time was now.<br />
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As I jumped off, everything was in slow motion, and as I hit the water, I instantly understood how you could easily break a bone hitting the water at the wrong angle from this height. I managed to survive and escape unscathed, which is always a good thing.<br />
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After this, I was on cloud nine. No cloud 10. As we got back on the boat and continued to party on our way back to Boracay, that liquid courage quickly became liquid Valium. By the time we reached station 1, I needed help getting on to the beach. Mike gave my camera to Mira and she captured those epic and embarrassing moments as the birthday boy himself helped me out of the water.<br />
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Once back at Frendz, everything was kind of a blur. Surprisingly, even to myself, I came back into full consciousness shortly after and ended up going to bed at 1am or so.<br />
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Mike's 30th birthday was the most epic party I have ever attended. I really hope that one day I can have one that rival's his. This is most likely wishful thinking, but one can always dream. Hell, who am I kidding, it felt like that day was my birthday!<br />
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<br />Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-61063889386651761982017-01-18T10:30:00.000-08:002017-01-18T10:30:16.209-08:00Angkor Who?April 25th-May 1st<br />
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We arrived at yet another ungodly hour in the morning to Mandalay, Myanmar's second city. From the bus station we caught a cab that brought us to our hotel. I distinctly remember tailing a delivery truck with its flatbed open and 2 young men sleeping in the back with their heads literally hanging over the edge, just a foot from the ground. One thing is for sure, South East Asians can sleep anywhere, anytime, and in any situation.<br />
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For some reason that is beyond me, night buses in Myanmar always leave in the late afternoon, at around 4-6pm. The roads used to be in extremely poor condition and the buses would arrive in the morning. Now that the roads have been drastically improved, these same buses usually arrive at 3-4am when visibility is at an all time low and finding accommodation and getting your bearings is extremely difficult.<br />
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We took a lot of night buses not only because we are cheap and wanted to save on accommodation, but because our 15 day time period in Myanmar was just, and I mean just, enough time to fit in everything we wanted to do. If I were to do it again, and if you were to do the same itinerary as we did, I would definitely recommend at least 3 weeks, with time to really enjoy each city and to interact with the people.<br />
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After getting some early morning shuteye, we were already on our way to our first stop of the day: Mandalay Palace and Fort. Our hotel wasn't located that far from the fort, but since the only entrance open to foreigners is the east one, we ended up having to walk quite a distance to get there. I haven't really been mentioning this, but we were smack right in the middle of the hot, dry season. If you think that it is always hot in South East Asia, then you are correct, but this time of year is in fact the hottest. So unnecessary walking is not always welcome.<br />
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Mandalay was the capital of the Burmese Empire in 1861, and remained so
until the British took it over in 1885. Mandalay is the only Burmese
city that seems somewhat like an actual city, due to the continual
investments of the Chinese.<br />
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The fort and palace itself are actually reconstructions because they were burned to the ground during the second world war. The interiors of these buildings aren't very impressive, but the sheer scale and the exterior architecture of the complex was.<br />
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The highlight of our time at the palace was happening upon a group of young monks at the top of one of the towers. We took pictures with the group and it made these otherwise mediocre interiors worthwhile.<br />
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After wandering around the monstrous grounds and grabbing a beverage to cool down, we made our way to <i>Kuthodaw Paya</i>.<br />
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The golden pagoda looks quite similar to the other pagodas we have seen so far, but this temple is distinguished by the fact that each one of the surrounding white <i>kyauksa gu </i>(stone inscription caves) contains a stone slab detailing 2 pages of the <i>tipitaka</i> (the Pali Canon of Theravada Buddhism).<br />
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There are a total of 729 of these caves and this is recognized as the world's largest book. I was just admiring the contrast between the golden central stupa and the pristine white structures surrounding it.<br />
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Our final stop of the day was Mandalay Hill for sunset. To reach the top of this 230m view above the surrounding plains, you have to climb up stairs for 45 minutes (I'm not sure how the math adds up but either way it's well worth it). Because it is a sacred place, you have to do it barefoot.<br />
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On top, we were treated to a beautiful view over the Shan hills, the Ayeyarwady River and the palace grounds.<br />
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We spent a while here enjoying the view and letting the sweat on our backs dry from the gruelling climb. <br />
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The following day we started off visiting Shwenandaw Kyanug Monastery which has the distinction of being built entirely out of wood. It is also the only remaining part of the original Mandalay Palace.<br />
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After, we made our way to <i>Mahamuni Paya</i>, whose main draw is a 4m-tall Buddha statue that is covered in 15cm of gold leaf due to the degree of veneration the population has for it.<br />
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In this same complex are several pillaged artifacts from Angkor Wat in Cambodia. If you'll notice in the photo, I'm wearing what looks like a skirt. It is called a <i>Longyi</i>, a Burmese sarong that most men wear in everyday life. I eventually bought one and would frequently ask hotel staff to teach me how to tie it properly, although it would still frequently loosen or fall off. When in Myanmar.<br />
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That afternoon we would be visiting a series of ancient cities on the outskirts of Mandalay. The first one was Sagaing. What really sets this city apart is its location. Built upon rolling hills, from the top it is remarkable to see all the stupas dotting the surrounding area.<br />
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The only downside is that all of these stupas require you to remove your footwear and I literally had to run around them because my tender western feet could not handle the heat generated by some of the stone tiles.<br />
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Our next stop was Inwa, or Ava, which was a former capital of Burma from the 14th-16th centuries. This to me was the highlight of the day. We were brought around to crumbling ruins by horse-drawn carriage, although it was more of a cart, and explore the rural country side.<br />
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We stopped to explore numerous ruins, some so decrepit you would have no idea that they were once majestic royal architecture.<br />
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One of the signature temples we stopped at was Bagaya Monastery, a teak structure built in 1834 and supported by 267 posts.<br />
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From there we saw the Nanmyin watchtower in the distance, before finally stopping at the Maha Aungmye Bonzan, a beautiful brick and stucco monastery from 1822. I thoroughly enjoyed this building due to its colours. What I didn't like and the only time in Myanmar I experienced this, was young children following us the entire time repeating "money" over and over and over again. I really hope that the people of Myanmar don't turn to begging with the increased influx of tourists.<br />
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Our final stop of the day was Amarapura, or the City of Immortality. This city is famed for U Bein 's Bridge: its 200 year old, 1.2km teak bridge. This was the perfect final stop to a perfect day in the region surrounding Mandalay.<br />
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The following day we took a "night bus" and ended up in Nyaung U in the very early morning (3-4am). This ride could have been far more enjoyable had there not been a man on the bus who incessantly dry heaved for the entire 8 hour ride. <br />
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After groggily walking in the wrong direction, we finally found our guesthouse, the May Kha Lar and checked in. It was fortunate that we arrived so early because the best introduction to Bagan is to watch the sunrise.<br />
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On our first day, to get an authentic feel of things, we hired a horse-drawn carriage to bring us to Old Bagan and I donned my <i>Longyi</i>. Despite being uncomfortable, slow and smelly; it was still rather enjoyable.<br />
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Our first introduction to the vast plains of Bagan would be from the top of Buledi temple. While not in pitch darkness like my first sight of Angkor Wat in Cambodia, it was still beautiful seeing the numerous temples dotting the arid countryside with vivid green trees jutting out of the reddish ground.<br />
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From here we visited Iza Gawna, the Winido Group, Nandamannya Pahto, Payathonzu, Thambula Pyata, Tayok Pye Paya, Lay Myet, and Hsinphyashin Monastery.<br />
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First of all, the only reason I have all these names is because I reflected after each day, looked at numerous maps and wrote down where we visited after having visited them. The sheer volume of temples and almost unpronounceable names made it quite difficult to describe to others what we visited on each day.<br />
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The Bagan Archaeological zone covers 41 square kilometres of land. From the 9th-13th centuries, Bagan was the capital city of the Pagan empire. During the Kingdom's pinnacle, over 10,000 temples, pagodas and monasteries were constructed. This massive place of worship and education attracted monks and students from neighbouring India and Cambodia (then the Khmer Empire), and as far as Sri Lanka.<br />
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Despite numerous natural disasters and wars, over 2000 of the original structures still remain in various states of disrepair. Those made of wood have surely vanished, but the grandeur and majesty is still very palpable while exploring these beautiful plains.<br />
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We tried to go to Pyathada Paya but it was closed. Undeterred, we went to two of the plains' heavy hitters next: Sulamani Pahto and Dhammayangi Pahto.<br />
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The Sulamani temple was built in 1183 and is one of the most frequented in the plains.<br />
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The Dhammayangi Pahto was built in 1167-1170 and has the distinction as being the biggest temple in all of Bagan.<br />
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The remaining temples of the day were Shwesandaw Paya, Gubyaukgyi, Nagayon, Abeyadana Pahto, Nan Paya, Manuha Paya and finally Mingalazedi Paya.<br />
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I could go in to detail of the origins and years that each of these structures were constructed, but I just want to illustrate the magnitude of how incredible this region really is.<br />
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We decided that the horse-drawn buggy wasn't the ideal way to explore this landscape and decided to rent bicycles the following day. As luck would have it, I was stuck with a lemon which had a flat tire, making the already difficult ride even harder. At least the temples we visited made up for this inconvenience.<br />
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Our first stop of the day was Lawkachanthar Paya. From there we went to Thagyar Hit Paya, Thagyarpone Paya, Htilominlo Pahto, Upali Thein and Khaymingha.<br />
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The following temple was another of the most revered in Bagan: Anada Pahto. It was built in 1105 and is one of the only original (not reconstructed) surviving temples of Bagan. It is truly incredible and has been described by Wikipedia as the Westminster-Abbey of Burma. I can agree with that.<br />
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From here we went to Tabathya Stupa, Thatbyinnyu Pahto (Bagan's tallest temple), Nathlaung Kyang (the only remaining Hindu temple at Bagan), the platform stupa (probably not it's Burmese name), Mimalaung Kyaung, Gawsawpalin Pahto, Myettaw Pyay, and the two-tiered Shwegugyi temple from which we watched the sunset.<br />
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After 2 days of exploration, Mike had had enough. He decided that he would lounge by the pool while I would take his bike out and attempt to explore the plains one final time. Unfortunately I didn't write down which temples I visited that day, but I did revisit some of the ones we had done on the previous days and sought out those that you could climb up and were treated to fantastic panoramic views of the surrounding country-side.<br />
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In the hot season I would highly recommend either bringing a lot of water with you or going with someone else or both. While I was cycling through the desert-like landscape in the blistering sun on a bike that is not built for speed nor facility, I found my vision going black for a brief amount of time and had to get off and walk my bike. As luck would have it, the next temple I arrived at had a child selling ice cold water out of a cooler. My saviour had arrived! I guess I'm a Buddhist now.<br />
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After re-hydrating and taking some sexy pics on this heavenly temple, I decided to make my way to Shwesandaw Paya for the sunset. Not only was the temple surprisingly packed by Bagan standards, but there was a tourist police checking people's tickets!<br />
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All foreign visitors are supposed to pay a 10$ entrance fee to the Archaeological site, but we never encountered anyone to pay, or really anyone else that "worked" there in order to buy our ticket, so I wasn't going to pay for my final temple visit of the entire 3-day period.<br />
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While I was contemplating what to do, watching the sun slowly set and the photographic splendour that was unfolding around me; I was struck by divine intervention, or perhaps just the bottled water that was sold to me by that child, and I had a shit-attack that made me have to run to the nearest (aka only) cafe in the area and relieve myself.<br />
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I guess I wasn't going to have to pay for the ticket or see the sunset for that matter. I was shit out of luck (bad pun intended).<br />
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I met up with Mike after and enjoyed our final meal in Bagan before taking our final 11-hour bus ride back to Yangon.<br />
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What may be surprising to most, including myself, is that Bagan is currently not recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage site due to the various architectural liberties taken by the previous military government. In the 1990's they tried to renovate and reconstruct many of the dilapidated temples, but did not take original techniques, materials or even the original architectural styles into consideration when doing the work, much to the dismay of international experts.<br />
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UNESCO World Heritage Site or not, this place is absolutely fantastic and a must-do in South East Asia (SEA). I am confident when I say that it outshines Angkor Wat in Cambodia as the most impressive temple site in SEA. The scale, isolation and diversity of temples really make this a truly unique and incredible sight to explore and behold.<br />
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The pictures I took were not timed to hide the scores of people exploring or climbing the temples at the same time as I was. I was often the only person (besides Mike) on these ancient structures and that really escalates the wonder of this site compared to the amusement-park type crowds at Angkor Wat. Hell, had I not found that water girl, I may well have died alone of dehydration on that sandy path among those wonderful temples. Not the worst place to die, mind you.<br />
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One thing that both Mike and I agreed on was that if you visit Myanmar, visit Bagan last. If you visit it first, all the other Buddhist sites will seem much less impressive. Everything we saw was rather unique and beautiful, but to cap off our stay in Bagan was the best way to do it in our opinion.<br />
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I am writing this almost 4 years after having visited this wonderful country and I do not know the extent to which the tourism industry has grown in that time. I truly hope that everyone who visits Bagan is able to experience that wonderful sense of seclusion from our current world and is transported to a mystical time, centuries ago, as I did when we were there.<br />
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Once back in Yangon, we checked back into The White House and made our way to Kandawgyi Lake. Although this lake is man-made, it was still a nice refuge from the calamitous 2 weeks we spent running around this incredible country. Mike and I were the only non-lover duo around this lake: it seemed that this was the go-to place for couples to come and be romantic. What was interesting is that any PDAs were done in private, so either covered by a stylish umbrella or covered by a towel.<br />
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Now I know Myanmar has had, and still has a very poor human rights record in regards to their various ethnic minorities, especially the Rohingya of Rakhine state. It would be incomplete if I didn't mention it, but I cannot really comment on it because we were not exposed to it and we encountered people from many different minority groups, who seemed to interact rather cordially with each other. We were treated with the utmost respect and hospitality and that is the image of the country and its people that I will leave with and forever cherish. <br />
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Myanmar was a country we didn't necessarily plan on visiting upon our arrival to the region, but it definitely was one of the highlights. What it lacked in partying and tourist infrastructure, it more than made up for in culture, kindness and a uniqueness unlike any country we have visited on this trip. I just hope that as it continues to open up to the world around it, it doesn't lose the things that make it a truly special place to experience and explore. <br />
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<br />Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-36994857040041767192017-01-10T05:33:00.000-08:002017-01-10T05:33:01.850-08:00Myanmar: One Million MingguhlabasApril 17th-24th<br />
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Mike and I had an early morning flight from KL to Yangon, Myanmar's former capital city. If this doesn't sound too familiar, the country used to be known as Burma, and Yangon used to be known as Rangoon; but when the powerful military Junta came into power in 1989, they changed the names. This military junta remained in power until 2011, just 2 years prior to our arrival.<br />
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This confusing nomenclature is not where the backwardness ends in this developing nation. Upon entering our taxi, we quickly noticed that our cab had British-style steering (on the right) but drove on the right hand side of the road (like in North America), so the drivers had a gigantic blind spot and we stayed on the cusp of disaster with every second in this car.<br />
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Another interesting tidbit of information is that Myanmar is one of the only 3 nations on earth to still use the Imperial system, the others being Liberia and the mighty USA.<br />
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What was quite refreshing, however, was that on the drive we didn't pass any major brands on billboards or familiar restaurants. We later found out that Visa, MasterCard, Pepsi and Coke were making inroads into the country as we were there, but it still felt like we were really entering uncharted territory on the South East Asian backpacker route. At this present time (April 2013), western tourists were only allowed to enter the country by plane in order to accurately account for all visitors.<br />
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Another confounding factor is that we were informed that outside of the airport there were not any international ATMs and that we would have to bring in all of our crisp, unbent, brand-new US Dollars in order to exchange it at the airport or on the black market into Burmese Kyat. I ran around like a madman in KL trying to find the most pristine bills possible, and even gave Mike shit regarding how imperfect his bills were. In the end, they eagerly took our crisp or semi-crisp USDs and gave us a very fair amount of Kyat.<br />
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The taxi dropped us off at our hostel, the much-hyped White House Hotel, boasting Asia's best breakfast. Although very good, it had way too much fruit for my liking. What was quite great about the hotel was its central location where we could walk to all the inner city sights; and its beautiful view.<br />
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Our arrival coincided with the middle portion of <i>Thingyan </i>or the Burmese water festival. While this sounds pretty cool, and it is, it also means that virtually all restaurants and shops are closed, making our culinary choices really limited. Mike being very picky to begin with was particularly inconvenienced by the lack of options.<br />
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What <i>Thingyan </i>also means is that the temples are packed to the gills with people and action. Since Myanmar is renown for its Buddhist temples and devout religious population, we were in for a cultural treat!<br />
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We started our tour of Yangon with the Mahabandoola Garden surrounded by the Independence monument, the Yangon High Court, and the impressive city hall.<br />
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From here we made our way to <i>Sule Paya</i> or the Sule Pagoda right in the middle of the city, actually sitting in the middle of a traffic circle. Remarkably, this structure is a 2000-year old temple. The 46m <i>zedi</i>, or stupa can be seen from all over the city.<br />
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It was quite impressive to see all the intricate ornamentation and blinding gold on this ancient structure, all the while fending off monks begging for money for giving "tours", aka just pointing at things.<br />
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Next we walked through Chinatown and briefly looked at the Kheng Hock Keong temple, but seeing as though we came from Malaysia, we were kind of over Chinese temples.<br />
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We found our way to the waterfront and admired Burmese people just going about their daily business.<br />
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That afternoon we made our way to Yangon's most famous and most impressive structure, the<i> Shwedagon Paya</i>.<br />
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This fantastically amazing pagoda has been a symbol of Burmese faith and pride for 2500 years. It's central 98m tall stupa and 82 other buildings are truly awe inspiring. It is said that the top of it contains 5000 diamonds and 2000 other stones.<br />
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I forgot to mention the 53 metric tons of gold-leaf pasted to its structure. So this is not only one physically and religiously valuable structure, but its monetarily value is also through the roof. It also apparently contains 8 hairs of the original Buddha but we didn't see them, but we weren't splitting hairs (bad pun intended).<br />
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Being here with the throngs of worshippers as the sun gently started to set was truly a unique and magical experience and with very few to no whities, it was beyond compare.<br />
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Our following day was spent just wandering around the city, getting a feel for the local culture. We checked out a small artisan market but most shops were closed because of the festival.<br />
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That same evening, we took a local bus to the small village of Kinpun, the basecamp for <i>Kyaiktiyo, </i>or the Golden Rock on top of Mt. Kyaiktiyo. The first bus was rather typical and played videos of Burmese lyrics with Bon jovi melodies, and white people dancing in bathing suits. We were then transferred into a small pick-up truck where I was literally hanging for dear life as my ass was dangling over the side of the speeding truck. We finally arrived after dark and speedily found the cheapest room we could because we wouldn't be sleeping there for too long. We were planning on heading out before sunrise to start the 11km uphill hike.<br />
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The day didn't start off very promising because as soon as we started the uphill trek, I saw a scorpion lying on the path. At least this would motivate me to finish this hike as quickly as we could.<br />
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This walk represents a pilgrimage to many Burmese monks and civilians alike. One of the highlights was passing red-clad monks and other pilgrims on their ascent and saying <i>Mingguhlaba</i> (or hello in Burmese) while smiling.<br />
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For those who are too weak, old, frail or lazy, there is a little truck that can take passengers up to the summit and back down again. I was quite impressed by Mike's performance on the hike. I had done another hike with him in the Pyrenees mountains of Andorra 4 years prior and he was practically on the verge of tears on the way up. This time, he was leading the way!<br />
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Upon arriving at the summit, we could easily see why people flock here in the thousands. The Golden Rock itself is huge and precariously balanced at the edge of a cliff, having withstood numerous earthquakes and said to be topped by a strand of Buddha's hair. It is said to be Myanmar's 3rd holiest site.<br />
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Male pilgrims were sticking little pieces of gold leaf onto it and it had a very impressive shine. What was unfortunate is that despite the fact that Mike and myself were not Buddhist, but being males, we had a right to go up and touch it, while even female Buddhist monks had to stand behind a rope.<br />
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I guess regardless of the religion there still exists a great deal of Patriarchy.<br />
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We took one of those little trucks down because we were in a rush. As soon as we got down, we hopped into a little van and were on our way to Bago, the next stop on our Burmese adventure.<br />
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Bago was founded in 573 and contains quite a wide variety of stupas, temples, Buddhas and monasteries.<br />
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Since we arrived at night we arranged for a day tour with a local guide through our hotel. It is usually advised to explore by bike, but we were on a tight schedule so we opted for motorcycle guides.<br />
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Our first stop was the immense Mya Tha Lyaung reclining Buddha, which at over 50m long, is quite the impressive structure. Although the paint job looks pretty tacky, the structure underneath dates back hundreds of years and only looks like it's out of the 70s due to more recent renovations (aka poorly thought out paint-jobs).<br />
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We continued to visit other pagodas of different eras and designs and then headed to the Kyaly Khat Wai monastery. We got to see the scores of monks living ascetic lives as they are required to do under Buddhist doctrine. <br />
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Our next stop of the day was <i>Shwemawdaw Paya</i>, the most impressive in stature of the day's many religious temples and structures.<br />
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Our final stop of the day was a snake temple that contained a gigantic Burmese python which people threw money on in order to grant them good luck, or fertility or some other attribute that people often wish for.<br />
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Once back at our hotel, we got onto yet another night bus, this one headed to Kalaw, the starting point of our trek to the famous Inle Lake.<br />
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Our bus rolled up to Kalaw at some ungodly hour in the morning and it was ridiculously cold out. It's location on the Shan plateau means it has a much cooler temperature than the rest of the country. We banged on the door of a nearby guest house, the Golden Lily, and managed to secure a room. We slept a few hours until the air warmed up and proceeded to check out the town.<br />
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Kalaw itself was extremely small and essentially consisted of one main street. It's main touristic purpose was to act as the starting point for hiking towards Inle Lake. I spent a little time exploring the town, checking out the cute little railway station and some little pagodas while Mike went to work out in a park and was drawing the attention of some local highschoolers: the boys wanted to be like him and the girls wanted to be with him. The highlight was playing soccer with a group of baby/child monks in a temple complex. It was one of those moments that I will always remember from my time in this beautiful country.<br />
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We spoke to the owner of our hotel and decided to do the 2 day trek to Inle lake. This particular hike cut out the initial, uninteresting portion of the walk by driving us to the more scenic portion. Seeing as though the drive was around 1.5 hours at a pretty slow speed, I'm guessing we had made the right decision. We were joined by a Dutch couple named Thijs and Petra.<br />
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The start of the hike was boring and incredibly arid, seeing as though this was the dry, hot season in South east Asia. It was fascinating, however, to see the local people tending to these arid fields in their beautifully coloured clothing.<br />
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Our wonderful guide Puta, who is the farthest thing from a Latino prostitute despite his name, finally led us to what looked like an abandoned monastery, where young monks were chopping wood. We were told this is where we would be spending the night. We ended up sitting around a fire drinking warm beers that Puta was able to get us, and then we ended up sleeping on the floor.<br />
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The next day we continued to descend towards Inle lake and could see some golden stupas in the distance. We were getting closer.<br />
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Puta let us explore some of these stupas and before we knew it we were at the shore of Inle Lake and were on our way to Nyaungshwe, where we would be staying the night.<br />
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This boat ride was our first taste of the splendour that is Inle lake with their mythical leg-rowing fisherman, who use one leg wrapped around a paddle to gracefully glide through the waters of the beautiful lake.<br />
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That night Mike and I explored a small temple before calling it a night.<br />
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The following morning we were back on the river early in the morning and had some difficulty getting out of the already bustling main canal due to low water levels.<br />
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Soon we were back on the water and enjoying the amazing dance that exists between the fishermen and the lake.<br />
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We continued on and soon were surrounded by floating gardens, where Intha farmers raise flowers, fruits and vegetables on floating mats.<br />
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We soon approached another canal and were surrounded by a stilt village and visited a weaving factory and jewellery shop. In this shop were two young girls both coming from the Kayan Lahwi group. If this name doesn't ring a bell, this is the group where the women wear the large metal rings around their necks that give them the appearance that they have super long necks. Their necks are actually normal length but the coils deform their clavicles to the point where it looks like they have giraffe-like necks. Poor girls.<br />
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This tribe comes from Shan state and these women came to Inle Lake to work in the tourist industry. You could take your picture with them for a small fee or tip, but I felt bad about exploiting them so I opted to forgo the pic, even though I really wanted to get photographic proof.<br />
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We also stopped at a very bustling riverside market and a floating monastery where the monks teach cats how to jump through hoops (don't ask me why that exists in Myanmar).<br />
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We enjoyed the tranquility of Nyaungshwe and Inle Lake while it lasted because before we knew it, we would be heading to Myanmar's second city, Mandalay.<br />
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Judging by the shear majesty, incredible sights and culture we witnessed on our first week in Myanmar, I could hardly wait to explore this wonderful country even more!<br />
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<br />Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-3729668281309475822017-01-06T08:09:00.002-08:002017-01-06T08:09:45.239-08:00Swimming with SharksApril 12th-16th<br />
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Before Yagil and I visited the Batu caves, I had to go to the Myanmar embassy in Kuala Lumpur to make sure I would be let in to the country considering my flight was only 5 days away.<br />
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The embassy itself was quite hard to find but instantly recognizable by the hundreds of queuing Burmese people eagerly or desperately waiting to speak to a consul. Of course, being a white foreigner allows you to access another line which only requires waiting a few minutes before speaking to someone and filling in the necessary forms.<br />
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Despite the fact I had no idea about Mike and my itinerary, what we planned to do or see, or even what Myanmar had to offer; they still considered me a valid candidate and would have my visa ready for the following day.<br />
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Before picking up my passport, I made my way to Jalan Petaling, the heart of KL's Chinatown where you can find some of the most convincing knockoffs anywhere.<br />
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From there I walked to Merdeka square, where Malaysia's independence was proclaimed from Britain in 1957 and then admired some colonial architecture flanking this sprawling green space.<br />
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Since the embassy was located near Kuala Lumpur's golden triangle: KL's main business district; I decided what better time time to visit Malaysia's most famous landmark, the Petronas Towers.<br />
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The world's tallest skyscrapers until 2004, these futuristic towers set in a lovely urban park are really quite impressive and actually quite difficult to capture in their entirety without a wide angle lens.<br />
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When I finally found a good vantage point, I failed to find a suitable person to take a photo (Mike was still in Singapore partying it up with Loy), so I settled on a crooked photo taken by a spatially challenged Russian woman (at least she tried).<br />
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That evening I met up with a friend I had met while doing a day-trip to Jordan's Petra from Egypt's Sinai Peninsula in 2010. Huey lived in KL and is quite the photographer and also an avid traveller. We had a great Malaysian meal and discussed things I should do in Myanmar because she had already been there.<br />
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It is truly amazing that after only a brief meeting, we would meet again 3 years later in her hometown halfway across the world. Travelling is truly a gift!<br />
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Meanwhile, Mike had finished his stint in Singapore and we agreed to meet halfway on Palau Tioman, another one of Malaysia's terrific duty-free islands. I hopped on the earliest bus I could to Mersing, the jumping off point to Tioman, but for some reason I still managed to miss the last ferry over. I guess I was spending the night in Mersing!<br />
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For the rest of the day, I wandered around the scenic harbour and visited the town mosque perched on a hill providing lovely views over this fishing community.<br />
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Even though I was there unintentionally, it was still nice to get away from the tourist spots because the locals were very genuine and very happy to interact with a foreigner. After watching a lovely sunset on the beach I retired to my cheap guesthouse and called it a night.<br />
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The next morning I caught the first ferry and within a few hours found myself on Tioman. Mike and I had settled on Air Batang Beach or ABC as it's known to Malaysians. Even though I didn't know where Mike would be staying (there was no reliable wifi on Tioman), I still managed to find him within an hour.<br />
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After having found a dive shop to go with the following day, we decided to trek from Tekek, Tioman's main town, to Juara on the other side of the island. Our intention was to make it to a waterfall three quarters of the way there, but after several hours of sweating our asses off in the stifling humidity and being bitten by unrelenting bugs, we decided to turn back, go for a swim and have some duty-free beers at sunset corner bar instead.<br />
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The next day, we made our way to Blue Haven Divers, the Japanese-operated dive shop we chose to do our diving with. Since Mike and I were the only 2 divers with them that day, we got to choose where we wanted to go.<br />
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Our first two dives were at Pulau Tulai or Coral island and this name was not a sheer coincidence: the coral around this island was absolutely stunning. Our final dive was around Pulau Rengis and we definitely saved our best for last. The shallow 12m dive lasted nearly an hour and the whole time we were surrounded by massive turtles and close to a dozen black-tipped reef sharks!<br />
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All my previous bitching and moaning of not diving with sharks was finally put to rest. Not only did I see around a dozen, but some swam near metres from Mike and I! To make matters even more incredible, we had the whole dive site to ourselves!<br />
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Upon our return to KL , we revisited the Petronas Towers again and I finally got a straight picture in front of them.<br />
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I also gave Mike my camera so he could take pictures from atop the Menara KL, which is even higher than the observatory deck of the Petronas; because I was too cheap to go up myself.<br />
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Our next country is Myanmar or Burma as it is still known to many western nations. A country that has only recently opened itself up to the west, but everyone who has visited says it is a mystical and magical place not to be missed. As more major corporations and tourists slowly enter this former military dictatorship, it is likely to change dramatically in the next few years, so we wanted to visit before it became another Thailand (not that there is anything wrong with Thailand) and discover it for ourselves.<br />
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Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-74121186349232541652017-01-03T08:08:00.001-08:002017-01-03T08:08:30.632-08:00Malaysia and Singapore: Off to the Races!April 5th-11th<br />
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The three of us caught the early morning speedboat back to Kuala Besut, where we had breakfast and waited for a bus to take us to the Cameron Highlands.<br />
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The Cameron Highlands are just that, highlands that give you a respite from the ridiculous heat and humidity elsewhere in Malaysia. It is an incredibly fertile area with sprawling tea plantations and strawberry fields; and it has a cool climate that allows you to be comfortable in jeans. Yes, jeans!<br />
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We arrived in the afternoon and settled into Daniel's Lodge (www.daniels.cameronhighlands.com) while rain started to fall. We were supposed to do a small hike around the area but my hatred of rain made me back out and Mike followed suit. Yagil went out anyways and we'd send out a search party if he hadn't returned in a few hours.<br />
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Tanah Rata, the main town in the Cameron Highlands has a large population of Indians and as a consequence, amazing Indian food which I indulged in while Yagil was gone. He did, however, eventually find his way back and we went for Indian food yet again for dinner.<br />
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Since we had such a limited time there, we had to sign up for a half-day tour of the area. Our first stop was a butterfly farm. Now this may sound like the fruitiest thing on earth, but there were not only butterflies, but other insects, scorpions, snakes and reptiles; and bunnies, the most deadly of them all.<br />
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From there we stopped to look at a beautiful panorama of one of the Cameron Highlands iconic tea plantations covering the area's rolling hills.<br />
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We continued further uphill until we reached the entrance of a short trail through a mossy forest.<br />
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Our final stop of the day was to the Sungai Palas Boh Tea Estate. This was a tea company started during the British colonial days. We took a brief and rather uninteresting tour of the factory before getting to the cafeteria and trying some of their specialty teas and baked goods while enjoying a beautiful view on one of their picturesque plantations.<br />
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As soon as we got back to the booking agency, we hopped on a bus to Malaysia's modern metropolitan capital, Kuala Lumpur. Our only reason for stopping in KL for the night was to hit up the clubs since it was a Saturday night.<br />
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We checked into the luxurious Reggae Mansion Hostel in China Town before heading out on the town. We decided to head to Zouk. The club was big, popular and foreigners got in free! The club was pretty fun: packed, good music and they didn't play Psy's Gagnam Style once! Although they did play Baauer's Harlem Shake 4 times!<br />
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With very little time to sleep off the booze, Yagil and I caught the LRT to the bus station going to Melaka. Mike preferred to sleep in a little longer and would meet us there.<br />
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Melaka is another one of Malaysia's UNESCO World Heritage Sites and was first settled in the 14th century by Indonesians, protected by the Chinese in the 15th century, taken over by the Portuguese in the 16th century, followed by the dutch in the 17th century and finally given to the British in the 18th century.<br />
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With so many cultures intimately involved in the development of this city, it is no wonder it is peninsular Malaysia's top tourist draw. Like Georgetown in Penang, Melaka still possesses much of its colonial architecture ranging from Portuguese forts to Chinese temples and Dutch windmills.<br />
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Yagil and I checked into Riverside Guesthouse along the Sungai Melaka River and strolled through Chinatown to eat some of Melaka's famous chicken and rice balls.<br />
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Following our delicious lunch we made our way to the town square whose red buildings centred around Christ Church and <i>Stadhuys</i>, built in 1753.<br />
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We continued along the river until we reached Porta de Santiago and replica waterwheel.<br />
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We then passed <i>Stadhuys</i>, a huge red Dutch colonial building before arriving at the Portuguese fortress <i>A Famosa</i> built in 1511.<br />
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A staircase led up to St. Paul's church built by the Portuguese in 1521. We explored the ruined church and a small cemetery before heading back to Chinatown.<br />
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We took our time wandering down the lovely streets of Chinatown and admiring the architecture. We also stopped several times to try some <i>Nonya</i> (Chinese ingredients with Malay spices and cooking techniques, yes, as good as it sounds!) cuisine when we saw Mike sauntering aimlessly down the street.<br />
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From here we went past the Kampung Hulu mosque before visiting Chang Hoon Teng temple, the oldest Chinese temple in Malaysia, having been built in 1646.<br />
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The tour of multicultural places of worship continued with a stop at Kampung Kling mosque, said to be the oldest in Melaka, followed by a long walk leading us to St. Peter's church, a beautiful building with impressive stained-glass windows.<br />
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After walking several more kilometres we ended up at Poh San Teng temple, sitting at the bank of Bukit China, one of the largest Chinese cemeteries outside mainland china, being the final resting place of 12,500 graves dating from as far back as the Ming Dynasty.<br />
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We finished our crazy day by waiting in line for an hour and eating at a unique Melaka restaurant serving a spicy peanut sauce hot pot with self service skewers. Fantastic!<br />
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The following day we caught a bus to Singapore, the tiny city-state of over 5 million people. We checked into our hotel, the tacky and overpriced 70's retro hotel Re!<br />
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A short walk through Pearl's Hill city park brought us to Singapore's wonderful Chinatown. We started off having a fantastic cheap lunch at one of Singapore's famed hawker stalls, food being the only affordable thing in the entire country.<br />
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From there we visited the Buddha Tooth Relic temple which supposedly houses one of Buddha's teeth.<br />
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To stick to our Chinese temple motif, we then visited the Thien Hock Keng temple, the oldest in Singapore, and then the Hindu Sri Mariamman temple (not so Chinese) to escape the pouring rain outside.<br />
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Singapore is an interesting country: although it is attached to Malaysia, its architecture, food and even ethnic demographic (75% of the population are Chinese) differ significantly to that of its neighbour.<br />
Singaporeans even have a unique dialect of English, and although it is their native tongue, I had a surprisingly hard time understanding it.<br />
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The country as it stands today is due to the arrival of Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles in 1819 who secured a British base here to guard the strait of Melaka. In less than 200 years, it is now one of the most modern, clean and richest countries on earth; also with the 3rd highest population density.<br />
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We continued our stroll towards Singapore's beautiful Marina Bay and impressive Marina Bay Sands hotel looking like a cruise ship balancing on three sky scrapers.<br />
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It was only a short walk away from the city's bizarre icon: the Merlion. Situated at the mouth of the Singapore river, it is an 8.6m half fish/half lion, vomiting water into the bay. Not extremely ferocious but does have a nice backdrop of the central business district behind it.<br />
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Our next stop was fort canning park, a nice refuge in the middle of the city where Raffles had built his first residence and botanical garden. Eventually the residence was dismantled and replaced by the present namesake of the hill: Fort Canning.<br />
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Being quite pleased with our walking tour of Singapore, we went to the Raffles hotel, an icon of this city state. It was here where the world famous Singapore sling was apparently invented. However, at almost 30 bucks-a-pop, I just tried a sip of Yagil's and considered myself content.<br />
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The next day, Yagil went to the Botanical gardens and Mike and I went to the Myanmar Embassy in the fancy Orchard Road district. We then reconvened at Re! where our boat-driving Singaporean friend (from Castaways in Ha Long Bay) Loy came to pick us up and drove us to the Tiger Beer Brewery!<br />
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Even though Loy had been born and raised in Singapore, he had never been. Once there, we joined a tour with an American couple from the northwest. We started off by posing with large novelty bottles and old-timey trucks.<br />
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It was actually a really enjoyable tour and to finish it off, there was a 45-minute all-you-can-drink portion in their nice pub. It also turns out that at 16S$ for the tour and 3/4 power hour, this was the cheapest drinking in all of Singapore!<br />
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Loy then took us to a hawker centre that was the perfect remedy to the litres of beer we had previously consumed and then was so kind as to drop Yagil and I off at the train station to catch a night train back to KL.<br />
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It was already time for Yagil to head back to Canada so we spent our last day exploring KL and visiting the impressive Batu caves. These caves are 13km away from central KL and act as a Hindu place of worship<br />
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The caves themselves are quite impressive and remarkably huge. To add to the fun, they are inhabited by hundreds of monkeys, one of which almost stole Yagil's wallet!<br />
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The caves are guarded by the world's largest Murga statue and house several other intricately decorated Hindu temples.<br />
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Despite the fact that Yagil and my time together in Peninsular Malaysia and Singapore only amounted to 12 days in total; we still managed to see pretty much everything that these two regions had to offer.<br />
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While I wouldn't necessarily recommend visiting them at this pace, it definitely is possible and I have to hand it to Yagil for pushing us slackers to see as much as humanly possible in the least amount of time! <br />
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Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-64154216224852941792016-12-31T12:01:00.001-08:002016-12-31T12:01:07.328-08:00Malaysia: The Mook has Landed!March 29th-April 4th<br />
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As I made my way to Saigon's public bus terminal through the ever-bustling Cong Vien Van Hoa Park, I stopped when I noticed a Caucasian jogger coming towards me. I couldn't believe it, but it was John, an American I had met on my first day in Cairo. He was currently living in Ho Chi Minh City and training before he went to a <i>Muay Thai </i>camp in northern Thailand the following month.<br />
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It had been over 8 months since we had initially met and to see each other at this exact time and place really blew our minds. It never ceases to amaze me how small our world really is!<br />
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I then took the bus to my stop and thanks to a Vietnamese pilot also headed for the airport, I was ushered to the connecting bus to the international terminal.<br />
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My next destination was peninsular Malaysia to reunite with Mike following his travels in Cambodia and to meet up with my friend Yagil.<br />
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Yagil and I have been friends since Cegep (Quebec College), and I personally take credit for introducing him to the wonderful world of partying.<br />
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Since that time, we have studied together at McGill University in Physical Therapy; and travelled together to Niagara Falls, New York City, Boston, North and South Carolina; and even in Turkey.<br />
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He was looking for an exotic location and I thought Malaysia would be a suitable place to meet up because it has beautiful beaches, historical landmarks, outdoor activities; while still having good infrastructure and western amenities that would not throw him too off guard.<br />
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While Yagil and I are very different travellers: I prefer backpacking and he prefers more luxurious holidays; we decided to compromise and find things that pleased us both.<br />
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Good Luck!<br />
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Our first stop was Palau Langkawi, peninsular Malaysia's duty-free island, and closest thing Malaysia has to a party spot.<br />
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Even though the three of us were flying in from different countries, we all had a seat booked on the flight from Kuala Lumpur to Langkawi.<br />
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We arrived to Langkawi after dark and took a taxi-van to Zackry Guest House on <i>Pentai Tengah</i>. We then moved our stuff into our private room and joined some other guests for some beers.<br />
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Malaysia, being a moderately conservative Muslim country, has comparatively high taxes on alcohol and as a consequence, it is quite more expensive to drink than in the rest of South East Asia.<br />
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However, Langkawi has had a duty-free status since the 80's to increase tourism and as a result is the cheapest place to drink in Malaysia.<br />
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Party on!<br />
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After eating dinner and listening to the Malay-Samoan-Kiwi hostel employee run his mouth for over an hour, we made our way to a beach-side bar/club before heading to Sunba Retro Bar, a packed place with a really decent band.<br />
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The next day, after a late breakfast, we joined Andreas, a German traveller, and took a taxi to Langkawi's impressive cable-car located at <i>Gunung Mat Chin Chang.</i><br />
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Despite my aversion to cable-cars in China, this one allowed us to see spectacular views over the archipelago of 99 islands and even see Thailand from the top!<br />
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We then went to Seven Wells, a series of natural pools where we could cool off after climbing the hundreds of stairs to get to them. We also spent a brief time watching locals flipping into the pools trying to impress us.<br />
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On our way back, we were fortunate enough to witness fighter jets flying overhead because our time in Langkawi coincided with an airshow. Pretty cool stuff!<br />
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After spending the rest of the afternoon at Tengah beach, we partied with the best of em after playing drinking games at the hostel and then hitting up the same places as the night before, only in reverse order.<br />
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We had an evening boat to catch so we spent our last day in Langkawi on the surprisingly beautiful <i>Pentai Cenang</i>. To be honest, I think that this beach was the best maintained and pristine since arriving in South East Asia. Sorry secret beach in Koh Rong, you've been knocked down a spot!<br />
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Andreas joined us on the ferry to Penang, our next island destination on Malaysia's west coast. The ferry itself only took 2 hours and then we proceeded to walk through the historic centre of Georgetown to get to our heritage-home guest-house, Red Inn Heritage (redinnheritage.com).<br />
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Despite most restaurants being closed, we still managed to find one of Malaysia's famous Hawker stalls: pretty much a late-night food court selling some of the best and cheapest food that Malaysia's Malay, Chinese and Indian inhabitants have to offer.<br />
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Georgetown, located on the north-eastern coast of <i>Pulau Penang</i> was founded in 1786 by the British and was one of their three initial straights settlements with Melaka and Singapore. It has been a UNESCO World Heritage site since 2008 and still has many of its historic buildings and charm intact.<br />
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We commenced a self-guided walking tour, passing the cathedral of the assumption and St. George's church, said to be the oldest Anglican church in Southeast Asia, having been built in 1817.<br />
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We then spent an hour in the Penang State Museum to get a history lesson about Georgetown and its multi-ethnic population.<br />
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A short walk down the seaside esplanade led us to the remnants of Fort Corwallis and the city and town halls.<br />
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The next part of the tour brought us through Chinatown with its narrow, ornate alleyways and some beautiful street art.<br />
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We visited the beautifully decorated exterior and uninspiring interior of the Hainan Temple built in 1895, strolling past the <i>Masjid Malayu Lebuh Acheh, </i>built for Georgetown's Arab settlers.<br />
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We then stumbled across <i>Khoo Kongsi, </i>a fantastically decorated clan house belonging to the Khoo Kongsi Klan, who we hilariously convinced Yagil started the KKK in North America.<br />
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This building gives most temples in China a run for their money. Really really impressive.<br />
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Our next stop was the Kapitan Keling Mosque, which we weren't allowed in due to our status as infidels<i>.</i><br />
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We had some delicious samosas in Little India before visiting the Goddess of Mercy Temple and strolling back along the quaint streets of Georgetown before reaching our guesthouse back on Love Lane.<br />
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A hostel employee had promised us a free tour of Penang the<i> </i>following day, but had slept until noon and completely forgot about us. We decided to visit <i>Kek Lok Si</i> Temple, the largest temple in Malaysia instead.<br />
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The complex is located on a hill and is as imposing as it is beautiful. To reach the seven-storied <i>Ban Po Thar</i> Pagoda, we had to walk up several staircases, past turtle ponds and hundreds of Buddhas.<br />
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After, we took a cable car to the immense 36.5m bronze statue of <i>Kuan Yin, </i>housed in an even larger frame. This was the first time I actually heard Mike say something actually impressed him. From up there we got some nice views of <i>Air Itam </i>and the surrounding hills.<br />
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Yagil and I arranged to take a night bus to <i>Kuala Besut, </i>the launching point to the spectacular Perhentian Islands. The bus we got was spacious and incredibly well air-conditioned. It didn't even matter that we had to share it with a group of travelling American Christian Missionaries.<br />
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Things were too good to be true when halfway through we had to change buses because of an air-con problem obviously felt by everyone but us, and we were put on another bus with way worse air-con and who dropped us off in Kota Bharu, a two-hour drive from Kuala Besut!<br />
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We were forced to pay for a taxi with a German guy which dropped us off at our intended destination. The only consolation was the absolutely incredible sunrise we saw over Kuala Besut.<br />
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Eventually, we caught a speed boat to Palau Kecil and settled into our long beach accommodation. It was hilarious to watch Yagil's reaction to every wave we hit on our surprisingly fast boat.<br />
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The Perhentian Islands are blissful, laid-back backpacker havens. Their beautiful beaches and shisha/fire-show evenings were beyond divine. The Perhentians, much like Thailand's Koh Tao, are renown for cheap and beautiful diving.<br />
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Our first day consisted of us chilling out at Long Beach and me trying to teach Yagil how to snorkel. My instructing him consisted of telling him to breathe through his mouth while keeping his head underwater. That's all there is to it!<br />
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The next day, Mike and I went diving with Turtle Bay Divers (www.turtlebaydivers.com), where after countless attempts, I finally saw sharks while diving in Southeast Asia! I saw a coral cat shark and a black tip reef shark. Take that Koh Tao!<br />
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That afternoon I did a snorkeling trip with Yagil and saw turtles, black tip reef sharks and it was successful because Yagil didn't drown and I didn't have to rescue him!<br />
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Our final night we went to Coray Bay for dinner and enjoyed another relaxing evening on the beach.<br />
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Because of Yagil's relatively short schedule (only 12 days), this portion of our trip together was the slower, more laid-back part, allowing us to stay a mere 2 nights in each place. From here, we would only be staying in each city for one night before heading to the next one.<br />
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Let the race begin! <br />
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<i> </i> <i> </i> <i> </i> Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-59967701935843054802016-12-29T09:54:00.000-08:002016-12-29T09:54:37.167-08:00Solo to SaigonMar 19-28<br />
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With Mike's departure, I was left to my own devices. I decided to beat the heat and make my way to Vietnam's central highlands, specifically to a town called Dalat.<br />
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Because of it's elevation, 1475m, Dalat has been a retreat from the chaos and stifling heat of Saigon since the arrival of the French in the early 1900s.<br />
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It is still a major draw for Vietnamese tourists today due to it's European flavour, and sprawling strawberry fields and flower gardens.<br />
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I would be using it as a base to recharge my party batteries and get some fresh, cool air before heading into Dante's inferno in the south of the country.<br />
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My first stop in Dalat was the out-of-this-world Hang Nga Crazy House. It is the audacious architectural work-in-progress (since 1990) of owner Mrs. Dang Viet Nga. It reminded me of a Vietnamese version of Barcelona's Antoni Gaudi, due to the organic appearance of the structure and the fact that it is continually being built upon year after year.<br />
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The crazy house contains nine different rooms, each with its own bizarre theme and animal moniker.<br />
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From here I just walked around the city and relished in the rare tranquility that was so refreshing in a country like Vietnam.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRuKSA61c3cdubtCPfDZM5FC_7q0m3i88BgYCQlI1mcIMo3ernBHMp3qkgM5PhHhTN4F-cwP7dJRVyyQiX33aZfeaWxuZlBvgpNJYBBFMSSdSkICugMDnyFU3_huZ6LWKkHZ6Ur3qYQZk/s1600/DSC_0451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRuKSA61c3cdubtCPfDZM5FC_7q0m3i88BgYCQlI1mcIMo3ernBHMp3qkgM5PhHhTN4F-cwP7dJRVyyQiX33aZfeaWxuZlBvgpNJYBBFMSSdSkICugMDnyFU3_huZ6LWKkHZ6Ur3qYQZk/s320/DSC_0451.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The following day I made my way to Lang Bian Mountain, the region's highest peak. Climbing up to 2167m seemed like the perfect way to enjoy the outdoors. This would have been far more enjoyable had I not lost one of my shoes in the undercarriage of the bus from Nha Trang, and now had to do this hike in flip flops.<br />
<br />
After paying the small admission fee, I made my way to the road leading up the mountain. I thought it was hilarious how the Vietnamese took these little 4x4 jeeps up towards the summit. When I got to the road, my smug smile quickly melted into a frown: the road was so steep that as I was climbing up, my body was leaning at a near 45-degree angle. My calves and Achilles were screaming so badly by the time I finally got to the forest path, that I was glad I was alone so no one would have to listen to my bitching and moaning as I climbed slow step by slower step in my shitty flip flops.<br />
<br />
Once I made it onto the grassy path, it stayed horizontal for around 5 minutes before becoming stone steps until the summit.<br />
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<br />
The view from the top was rather obstructed by clouds, but the absence of western tourists was far more rewarding than any view. I enjoyed taking some pictures with some Vietnamese students who were eager to practice their English with me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fp_jC8LWFSBaJrhyQUIFLOe5kBK49Vu_-u3LznspRK5bhqURABWg9yLyU4LYoCysEQo8itvexJB9wGK2kWt2M-shK8p1jKkOcP8Y9PaLB3xhUeBY9Cq2UxxoioNS-1P8GdNSwIdeKSQ/s1600/DSC_0475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fp_jC8LWFSBaJrhyQUIFLOe5kBK49Vu_-u3LznspRK5bhqURABWg9yLyU4LYoCysEQo8itvexJB9wGK2kWt2M-shK8p1jKkOcP8Y9PaLB3xhUeBY9Cq2UxxoioNS-1P8GdNSwIdeKSQ/s320/DSC_0475.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
The trip down was not nearly as long, but walking down a steep incline in shitty flip flops was just as arduous and uncomfortable as walking up.<br />
<br />
The next day I took a 4-hour bus ride towards the next stop on my solo tour of southern Vietnam: Mui Ne. Mui Ne is known around the South for it's beautiful beach and as the adrenaline capital of coastal Vietnam, most notably for kite-surfing because of its strong, incessant winds.<br />
<br />
I checked into the resident party hostel, Mui Ne Backpackers Resort Austria House, and proceeded to change into the requisite bro uniform of board shorts and a singlet.<br />
<br />
I went to check out the beach but was quite surprised at the lack thereof: the tide was so high that barely any sand was to be seen, and there were just these slanted stone walls protruding from each resort. It wasn't nearly as nice of a beach as Nha Trang, but at least I didn't have to worry about speaking any Russian!<br />
<br />
I joined a hostel-organized tour of the local sights, and to get to know some of my hostel mates. Our first stop was the infamous "Fairy Spring", a chocolate coloured river flowing through interesting rock formations and sand dunes.<br />
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<br />
For some geological reason that I can't explain, Mui Ne is also home to some pretty impressive red and white sand dunes, some of which could be seen from the Fairy Spring.<br />
<br />
For some bizarre reason, they offered ostrich rides along the Fairy Spring, and other than increasing my travel cred and having a funny story to tell, I decided to pass.<br />
<br />
Our next stop on this mini tour was Phan Tiet, a picturesque fishing harbor that graces the cover of my counterfeit Vietnam Lonely Planet.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Our final stop of the day was the aforementioned dunes that seemed to come out of nowhere. Some people rented 4-wheelers, others used ghetto magic carpets, and I just used the time to snap some pics and work on my already glorious tan.<br />
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Mui Ne gave a chance to enjoy some interesting geological aspects of Vietnam that I wasn't even aware of and as a transition between the sleepy feel of Dalat and the upcoming party storm that I knew awaited me upon reuniting with Mike. The only unfortunate part of Mui Ne, was leaving my conical hat under the bed in my hostel. I guess it wasn't meant to be. </div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
<span style="color: white;">The bus ride further south to Saigon was far more enjoyable because I shared a seat next to a dutch giant named Stefan. </span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;">We arrived to Saigon in the late afternoon, the tranquil pace of Dalat and Mui Ne was quickly replaced by absolute chaos, and probably several million motorbikes worth of noise.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="x_MsoNormal">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">I
checked in to my hostel and met up with Mike. He had experienced an
epic series of evenings leading up to our reunification and the
expectations were huge, because this was our only night together before
he packed up and left again to explore Cambodia for a few days.</span></span></div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-8N1EIEVUFeFF4nmTZ1lbQk2xcLC9n5fKFo_ZsNkLL1TEA0PQiulJhe4eWdDakFEGUHMFhIGIbzcT2BIVhT1N6iPEoelhEjWB_7fb4Syx8N7Sl4qTLSNJuJBJt3HsZ58-rJo1G4J3w8/s1600/IMG_5917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-8N1EIEVUFeFF4nmTZ1lbQk2xcLC9n5fKFo_ZsNkLL1TEA0PQiulJhe4eWdDakFEGUHMFhIGIbzcT2BIVhT1N6iPEoelhEjWB_7fb4Syx8N7Sl4qTLSNJuJBJt3HsZ58-rJo1G4J3w8/s400/IMG_5917.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";"><span style="color: white;"> (Photo Credit: Mike Risi)</span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">We
started off by going out for dinner at a massive outdoor restaurant and
had plans to visit one of the most well-known bars in Saigon.
Unfortunately we couldn’t find it. So instead, we ended up drinking
Sweet Saigons (a sugar cane-based drink brilliantly named by Mike) on
the street and doing a pub crawl with our crew consisting of Mike and
myself as well as Stefan, Alex, Lucinda, Andre, Sam and Mel for this
epic night. </span></span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIkwzsytSsoQOeDwQuyQXGNnKK4tJ5xuFMlGp1idkLht6WpkTseqF5sqG9Mi7w5mPGYn3tg035Ta8gAt1HOPXlaO-WA05pTE75cRbbgm2Cco0VN7HUF235U4SNkXB730vgLG3UBYtVjU/s1600/906403_10200997131073828_1699591055_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIkwzsytSsoQOeDwQuyQXGNnKK4tJ5xuFMlGp1idkLht6WpkTseqF5sqG9Mi7w5mPGYn3tg035Ta8gAt1HOPXlaO-WA05pTE75cRbbgm2Cco0VN7HUF235U4SNkXB730vgLG3UBYtVjU/s320/906403_10200997131073828_1699591055_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";"> <span style="color: white;">(Photo Credit: Alex Bell)</span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">At
the end of the night, we stumbled upon an Asian-style Karaoke bar where
you get your own room and don’t have to sing in front of strangers.
Which for a group of atrocious singers, proved to be a definite
advantage. After an overly-enthusiastic rendition of Queen's Bohemian
Rhapsody, we called it a night. A really epic one at that. </span></span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjljeQdISLy_mu43bcZWRSgsG2Q3K8VkujiiNFMLHV3UDPPGtssQREb2X78tHbjGO7dZ7Qd2ggGydpWP58bgkSv9A9urZo8qhlNZu1D6y5pZfDxIkHFqn_NUzRu8URA0d1dXyaO9XBCf6w/s1600/906390_10200989413360890_1639860312_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjljeQdISLy_mu43bcZWRSgsG2Q3K8VkujiiNFMLHV3UDPPGtssQREb2X78tHbjGO7dZ7Qd2ggGydpWP58bgkSv9A9urZo8qhlNZu1D6y5pZfDxIkHFqn_NUzRu8URA0d1dXyaO9XBCf6w/s320/906390_10200989413360890_1639860312_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";"> (Photo Credit: Alex Bell)</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">Saigon,
which was the former capital of the Republic of Vietnam (aka the South
of Vietnam) from 1956 to 1975, was renamed Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) after
the north defeated the south in the Vietnamese War. Today it is known
as HCMC for governmental purposes only and residents and tourists alike
continue to refer to it as Saigon.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">The
love and admiration that northerners feel for uncle Ho is not shared by
the southerners, and feelings of resentment can still be felt among the
population, both young and old.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><div class="x_MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">I
decided to visit some of the city's museums to get a better
understanding of this country's complex history. My first stop was
Reunification Palace. Formerly the seat of the Southern Vietnamese
government, this building now serves as a museum and time capsule of the
1960s and 70s.</span></span></div>
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<br />
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">My
next stop was the War Remnants Museum. This should be an essential stop
for anyone visiting Saigon, anyone for or against war, and just all of
humanity in general. This museum shows the devastation this war wreaked
on the population and illustrates the depths of which human depravity
and chemical warfare can reach.</span></span><br />
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<br />
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">Not
since the Rwandan Genocide Museum in Kigali have I cried so openly and
deeply in public. In the section depicting the dead and mutilated from
Agent Orange and Napalm, there wasn't a dry eye in the room. If there
was, they were dead inside.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">I
regained my composure and walked around the neighbourhood, collecting
my thoughts. I now understood why Montreal has such a huge Vietnamese
diaspora. They were escaping hell.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">My
final stop on my solo tour of Vietnam was the Mekong Delta, Vietnam's
most southern and humid region. Getting there was half the fun: starting
in what looked like a heist-movie chop-shop in urban Saigon and ending
up in literally the middle of nowhere.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">I
don't even know what little village I ended up in. The only thing I
know is that I was staying in a wooden room next to a Vietnamese
family's home who enjoyed singing Karaoke until the wee hours of the
morning and who provided me with excellent and plentiful meals because I
was the only westerner at their home-stay and in their entire village
for that matter. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">I
also had been given the use of probably the shittiest bike on earth and
was given very vague instructions of how to visit the local sites and
points of interest. I somehow ended up exploring a few small temples and
churches, none of which warrant their pictures shared in this posting. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">I
also took a small ferry ride to the next biggest town and enjoyed some
delicious iced coffee at the edge of the delta's many tributaries. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">One
thing that struck me about this village was despite its size, the
amount of young people with visible physical deformities was
disproportionately high. Was this the effects of Agent Orange trickling
down through the generations? These kids were much younger than I was,
and I was born 9 years after the war ended. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: white;">
</span><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">The
major touristic draw of the Mekong Delta region is to have a morning
river cruise and visit the famed floating markets near Vinh Long. Since I
was the only westerner in the whole region, I chartered a boat for
myself.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
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<span style="color: white;">
</span><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">It
was very scenic and fascinating to see how the local people utilized
the river in their daily lives. All tasks, from washing and bathing,
food preparation, transportation and making their livelihoods were all
intimately linked to the river. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">Our
final destination was the Cai Be floating market in Vinh Long. Even
though I was the only person on the boat and insisted that we be at the
market for the most boisterous and photogenically appealing time of the
day, the boat guide made sure that we missed that period by a few hours.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: white;">
</span><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">By
the time we got there, a vast majority of the maritime fruit and
vegetable sellers had already left. Don't get me wrong, it was still a
beautiful sight and I don't regret visiting the more intimate regions of
the delta, but the amateur photographer in me was left slightly
disappointed. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">However,
after seeing all the deformed people happily going about their daily
lives, and the atrocities witnessed by many people in this region, I
should really shut my spoiled western mouth. </span></span><br />
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<br />Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-22623523106424565672016-12-14T07:22:00.001-08:002016-12-14T07:22:33.558-08:00The Spared City and Little MoscowMarch 11th-18th<br />
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A relatively quick bus ride (by Southeast Asian standards) from Hue dropped us off in Hoi An, our next stop in Vietnam. A shuttle was waiting for us and brought us to our hostel, the impressive Sunflower Hotel (<a href="http://sunflowerhotelhoian.com/">http://sunflowerhotelhoian.com/</a>). Not only did this place serve a tremendous, buffet-style breakfast; but it also had a huge pool area to swim and mingle.<br />
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Hoi An, while known for its architecture and historic Old Town (more on that later), is also renown in Vietnam for its hundreds of tailors, making this THE place for all your custom-made suit needs. Knowing that getting a custom-made suit will likely take several days and require numerous re-fittings, Mike and I made it our number one priority to locate a reputable tailor and start the process as quickly as possible.<br />
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After some research and recommendations from other travelers, we agreed on Kimmy's (<a href="http://www.kimmytailor.com/">http://www.kimmytailor.com/</a>) and were rather blown away by their customer service and attention to detail. The first step was choosing the fabric. This included the main fabric choice as well as the inner lining. We then went through a laptop with literally hundreds of different styles, both original and others taken directly from pictures off of major fashion house runway shows or photo-shoots (i.e. D&G, Armani, etc). After this thorough yet tedious process, we were measured. I have never had custom-made clothing before, but they took measurements of things I wasn't even aware needed measuring.<br />
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Despite the rigorous initial measuring process, we were still required to return to Kimmy's another 3 times over the next few days for re-fittings, to make sure the suit fit like a second skin. To be honest, it was probably even better (tighter) fitting than my actual skin, seeing as though I couldn't really sit comfortably, nor hug myself, nor raise my arms above my head, but holy shit did I look sexy!<br />
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If it's better to look good than to feel good, I considered this a mission accomplished.<br />
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Once we had the suit situation under control, Mike and I decided to rent motor bikes and head to the archeological site of <i>My Son. My Son </i>has been called "the Vietnamese Angkor Wat" by some, but those people have probably never seen the actual Angkor Wat in neighboring Cambodia.<br />
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Not. Even. Close.<br />
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The first part of the adventure was just getting there. <i>My Son </i>is located 55km from Hoi An, and in order to get there you need to navigate country roads, highways and poorly marked turnoffs.<br />
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Driving down the highway on a motorized scooter being passed by trailer trucks with little to no regard for human life sounds exhilarating, but actually turned out to be quite terrifying.<br />
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We did eventually and thankfully make it to the site with our lives intact. <br />
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<i>My Son</i> was once the most important religious site for the Kingdom of Champa, an empire based in present day Vietnam who thrived in between the 2nd and 15th centuries.<br />
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The Champa kingdom were initially Hindu, using Sanskrit in their sacred writing. The Indian influences upon their culture and architecture were very apparent upon exploring this ancient site.<br />
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In present day Vietnam, the Cham people, or the descendants of the Champa Kingdom, remain a prevalent visible minority, however they are principally Muslim now.<br />
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The site originally contained 68 structures, but now only 20 remain. The site was almost completely destroyed by American bombardment in the Vietnam War.<br />
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Despite the small stature of the site and crumbling architecture, Mike and I still enjoyed exploring the ruins. We were promised large crowds, but the high heat and humidity likely kept the other tourists away and gave us a peaceful and unique experience.<br />
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How often do you get to explore a UNESCO World Heritage Site virtually alone?<br />
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Not very often. <br />
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The following day we decided to explore the old town of Hoi An. The unique architecture and history of the Old Town have given the city UNESCO World Heritage status since 1999, and to visit many of the buildings it requires a tourist ticket and an appreciation for cool dragon statues.<br />
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Check and check. <br />
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Hoi An was initially the principle sea port of the Champa Empire, dating back to the 2nd to 10th centuries. By the 15th century, it had become one of the most important trading ports in South East Asia, attracting merchants from all over the world.<br />
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Many different wares were sold here, including world famous silk, which would theoretically explain the over-abundance of tailors in present day Hoi An, but I don't think it's actually related.<br />
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This history of foreign merchants and consequently seasonal occupants, has led to the unique architectural landscape present in the Old town.<br />
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Some popular tourist attractions and remnants of Hoi An's merchant past are the Japanese Covered bridge, probably the most iconic structure in Hoi An.<br />
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As well as numerous Chinese temples and assembly halls.<br />
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The architectural diversity, the beautiful scenery hugging the Thu Bon river, and the ban on cars and motor bikes within the old city; make it a truly beautiful place to wander and explore, albeit with hundreds of other tourists. <br />
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What sets Hoi An apart from other places in Vietnam is that it is still in much of it's original, non-rebuilt, architectural splendour. In the 18th century, Hoi An lost out as a major trading port against nearby Da Nang and because of this, it consequently became just another sleepy river-side town, and it was spared American bombing during the Vietnamese war. Lucky them.<br />
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The whole old city is accessible on pedestrian roads and if you want to enter some of the buildings you can purchase a pass from the tourist bureau.<br />
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As we were walking back from our stroll in ancient Hoi An, a goddam motorbike turned right into me and slammed me in the ribs with the handle bars, managing to pinpoint the exact location that I had injured on the ridiculous tubing accident in Ha Long Bay.<br />
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Thankfully, Hoi An actually had a pretty incredible night life to ease my rib pain, which included such great bars as Why Not? bar and Volcano bar, which required a 5$ entrance fee for all you can drink vodka and western meatheads playing Youtube videos on a giant projector screen!<br />
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On our way back from Volcano, Mike and I hailed a motorcycle taxi that literally scared the sobriety back into us. The bike took corners like the way they do in MotoGP and we could feel the pavement graze our bare legs as we hovered mere centimeters from the ground.<br />
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On our final day in Hoi An, we decided to visit Cua Dai Beach, just a few kilometers from the city center. The sand was great, the water was warm and this was the only place in Vietnam I would wear my conical hat in public. Unfortunately I have no photographic evidence of this.<br />
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Our next stop was Nha Trang, which we arrived at after yet another long night bus ride.<br />
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Nha Trang is less known for its history, but more
for its beaches. It is a major tourist destination for a
surprising amount of Russians. As the story goes, during the cold war
era, the Russians and Vietnamese were strong allies and well-off
Russians who wanted to get away from the Siberian winters were able to
get direct flights to Nha Trang, where they could bask in the heat, enjoy
the beach, and drink the vodka. Apparently, the attachment to this city
still carries on today.<br />
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The Russian influence, at least in the center
of the city is still very evident. Russian text is on store fronts and flags
are on buildings and Russian is being spoken.
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Other than having a low-key celebration of St. Patrick's Day at a local Irish pub, Mike and my activities consisted of beaching it up and avoiding Russians.</div>
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I had to extend my Visa and Mike wanted to check out the south of Vietnam before his visa expired, so I would be staying behind while he would trek solo towards Saigon, where we would be meeting up again in a few days.</div>
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A Beautiful beach and Mike-free time. Sounded like heaven on earth.</div>
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Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-53988762480676191932015-05-23T19:25:00.001-07:002015-05-23T19:25:32.938-07:00Getting A-Hue from the Party Scene<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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March 8th-10th<br />
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Our over-night bus arrived in Hue (pronounced Hoo-ay to clear up any confusion regarding my corny title) in the early morning. It conveniently dropped us off right in front of our hostel, the Imperial, which was owned and operated by the same charming group that ran our hostel in Hanoi. (<a href="http://www.vietnambackpackerhostels.com/the-hostels/the-imperial-hue/">www.vietnambackpackerhostels.com/the-hostels/the-imperial-hue/</a>)<br />
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After freshening up after our 14 hour bus ride, we decided to explore the city a little bit. Hue, the former capital of the Nguyen emperors, was founded in 1802 by Emperor Gia Long, who was also responsible for constructing the city's famous citadel. The Nguyen dynasty ruled Vietnam until 1945, however this was more ceremonial considering various other countries occupied it during that time.<br />
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On our walk, after we crossed the perfume river (<i>Song Huong</i>), we stumbled upon a small park comprising some pretty impressive military equipment from the Vietnam war. There was not only American weaponry, but also Vietnamese and Soviet weapons as well.<br />
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From there we made our way towards the principal entrance of the citadel. Jutting out at an impressive height of 37 meters was the imposing flag tower, which is said to be the tallest in all of Vietnam.<br />
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It was then only a short distance across the moat to the <i>Ngo Mon </i>gate, which is the principal entrance to enter the Imperial Enclosure. To be honest, the architecture and layout of the walls and guard towers had a very similar look to the forbidden city in Beijing.<br />
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Once inside the Imperial enclosure, however, the differences became apparent rather quickly. Yellow and other pastel colours were everywhere, and in a charming state of decay that was either due to the repeated attacks on this compound during the Vietnam war or just shoddy paint jobs from the team responsible for the restoration. I'm leaning more towards the latter, but that doesn't detract from it's appeal.<br />
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Another prevailing theme was a stylized Chinese character contained within a circle. I've tried to look it up, and it may be <i>phu</i>, loosely translating to "double happiness" or good luck. Either way, it is quite prevalent all over Vietnam and especially at the citadel, and I'm pretty sure I had a Diesel t-shirt with that symbol on it when I was a teenager. <br />
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We explored the grounds of <i>Thai Hoa</i> Palace and the forbidden purple city, which should have been renamed to the hidden purple city because barely anything remains after it was almost completely destroyed in the war.<br />
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During the Vietnam war, Hue was the site of a vicious battle during the game-changing "Tet Offensive", and was the only city in South Vietnam to be occupied by the north while the Americans were actively involved.<br />
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The parts of the citadel that were intact or had been restored were quite impressive despite their relatively small stature.<br />
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After exploring the citadel and its contents, we made our way back to the hostel for a bite to eat and to shelter ourselves from the blistering sun.<br />
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Later that day, we rented bikes and made our way to <i>Thien Mu</i> Pagoda, around 3.5km from the citadel. Getting there involved riding for a short time through central Hue and its hundreds of motor bikes. By no means was this on the same scale as the traffic in Hanoi, but as the first direct exposure to traffic in Vietnam, it was both scary and fun at the same time.<br />
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Once we left the city center, it seemed as though we barely encountered any other vehicles on the way to the pagoda.<br />
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If you've been following my blog in the past, you may know that I have a bizarre fascination with pagodas. <i>Thien Mu </i>did not disappoint and was probably the nicest pagoda I saw in Vietnam, probably because it closely resembled the style that I fell in love with in China.<br />
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Standing at 21 meters high, it was constructed in 1844 by Emperor Thieu Tri. The site also has a small temple that is frequented by local yellow-clad monks.<br />
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We enjoyed the pagoda until the sun had nearly set and then made our way back to the hostel. Since we had partied so hard in Hanoi and Halong Bay, I was almost happy that Hue didn't really have any nightlife to speak of so that Mike and I could finally recover and get some proper, non-alcohol-induced sleep. Besides, the next next morning we would be waking up quite early to do a tour of the former demilitarized zone (DMZ) and important sites of the Vietnam war.<br />
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As promised, we woke up quite early and were on the road by 6:30am. We followed Highway 9 for a few hours until we approached a hilly area with patchy vegetation. One of these outcroppings was known as "the rockpile", and it was used by the US Marines during the war. Our guide explained that the area was once huge swaths of dense, impenetrable jungle, but the Americans dropped Napalm and Agent Orange on the area and rendered it nearly bald. The trees that we saw before us had only been growing since after the war. <br />
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Our next stop was <i>Dak Rong </i>bridge, which marks a place on the Ho Chi Minh Trail, which was the main supply route used by the Vietcong and the North Vietnamese army during the war.<br />
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From there we went to <i>Khe Sanh </i>military base, which is just east of the border with Laos and was used by the Americans until it was attacked in 1968.<br />
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We stopped briefly for lunch in Dong Ha and then made our way to Highway 1. Our first stop of the afternoon was <i>Hien Luong </i>bridge which crosses over the Ben Hai river. This portion of the river is significant because it marks the former border between North and South Vietnam dating between 1954 to 1972.<br />
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After a stop at <i>Doc Mieu</i> military base, we made our way to the coast and visited our final site of the day, the <i>Vihn Moc</i> Tunnels. These small, elaborate tunnels were where an entire village lived during the war in order to avoid the incessant bombing done by the Americans.<br />
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Started in 1965 and completed in 1967, these tunnels measured almost 2km when finally complete, and were located at a depth of 30m at their deepest. Despite the 9000 tonnes of bombs dropped on the area, no civilians were killed thanks to these tunnels. It was even said that 17 babies were born inside!<br />
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On our way back to Hue, we briefly stopped at a Vietnamese military graveyard that was located across the street from a rusted tank still sitting where it was destroyed during the war.<br />
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I was really glad Mike had suggested we do this tour. I didn't know anything about the Vietnamese War prior to visiting Vietnam. Despite the long and complex history of the Vietnamese people, I feel as though this war is the only legacy that they wish they could escape. The burnt-out tanks, patchy forests and old military bases act as old wounds that may never heal. Although the country is making money from the tourist revenue at these sites, their presence is a constant reminder of a time they all wish they could forget. <br />
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Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-38407265836119685982015-02-27T21:25:00.001-08:002015-02-28T12:01:39.219-08:00Karst Cruising and a Bull in a China Shop<div dir="ltr">
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March 3rd-7th<br />
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Upon arriving back in Hanoi, Mike and I decided to check out the Museum of Vietnamese Revolution as well as the History museum. They had been closed during our first stint in Hanoi and while somewhat interesting, they served more as something just to pass our time until we embarked on our next adventure.<br />
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We had signed up to Hanoi Backpackers' Halong Bay excursion aptly titled Castaways (<a href="http://www.halongbaycastawaytour.com/">http://www.halongbaycastawaytour.com</a>). While expensive by Vietnamese backpacker standards, we had heard nothing but rave reviews and decided this would be the perfect sendoff for Josh, since these would be our final days together in Asia.<br />
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We gathered in front of the hostel and they gave us these ridiculously colored rainbow hats. We then hopped onto a luxurious bus and chilled on the 3-hour bus ride to Halong Bay.<br />
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Halong Bay, the biggest tourist draw in Vietnam and a UNESCO World Heritage site, is a collection of more than 2000 karst islands jutting out of the Gulf of Tonkin. Every island is unique and contains caves and grottoes for you to explore. The landscape is very similar to Guilin and Yangshuo in China; and Krabi in Thailand. Being a karst snob by this point, I was a little skeptical at first, but upon arriving I knew we were in for something extraordinary.<br />
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Most Halong Bay tours involve a huge amount of Vietnamese and/or Chinese tourists crammed onto a run-down boat that ventures from touristic island to touristic island, stopping at several caves that are illuminated with kitschy lighting and souvenir stands. Castaways on the other hand, is pretty much a non-stop booze-cruise that has its' own private island in the gulf and bypasses the caves and islands frequented by the other boats.<br />
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Upon entering the boat, our guide Gabe or <i>Gay </i>as he preferred to be called, set the tone and said that we all needed to shotgun a beer before the boat leaves the port. He also said that from this point on, we had to abide by the Asian standard of <i>The Game of Life, </i>that terrific game that requires you to do ten pushups every time you say the word "mine". It sounds pretty easy to avoid saying the word mine, but believe me, when pushups are at stake, you say it a hell of a lot more than you want to!<br />
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This was not going to be a typical Halong Bay boat cruise!<br />
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As the boat left the port we were given a generic Asian meal and then went onto the roof of the boat to enjoy the stunning scenery that Halong Bay has offer. The rock formations are the pride of the Vietnamese people, and what better way to show our respect than to take karst dick picks whenever we had the chance.<br />
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We were quite a large group and we quickly made friends with the other castaways. We were joined by some amazing Canadians: Kaja, Erika and Heather from Toronto; and Kaitlyn and Rebecca from Calgary. We also quickly became friends with Oli (who Mike thought looked like a young Mic Jagger and proceeded to call him Jagger during our whole trip), and Charlie, both from the UK. Sundar (who I mistakenly called sidecar) from Australia and Loy from Singapore rounded up our crew.<br />
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After several hours at sea, having passed some really impressive islets and floating fishing villages, we started to approach Castaways private island. Before arriving, Gay let some people jump off the boat into the waters below, but Josh, Mike and myself were too sober to do it: it was like 15 degrees outside!<br />
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As we approached the beach, we saw a large group of people awaiting our arrival. They all had mischievous grins on their faces and looked a little too eager to see us. When we got off the boat we quickly found out why they were so happy to see us.<br />
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They were the group that would be leaving the next morning and they had set up an obstacle course as our initiation to the island. At the end of the course, they had dug a deep hole in the sand and filled it with beers. We all lined up at the starting line and ran full speed towards that hole full of beer. When I said a big hole, I mean a hole that could probably fit a person or two comfortably. Seeing as though we were between 20 and 30 people all vying for a coveted beer in the hole, things got messy pretty quickly. The whole race was a blur, but the end result was a pile of castaways, a few minor injuries and a ridiculously hilarious sight for the resident castaways.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bp9WQBjLU2Q" width="480"></iframe>
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That set the tone for the rest of the night, which involved beer pong, drinking games and way too much body paint. It looked like I had been seriously beaten up because of all the red and green still on my face. You don't know how hard it is to get caked-on face paint out of a luscious beard! I'm pretty sure I was still picking it out over a week later!</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
(Photo Credit: Heather Corner)</div>
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We woke up the next morning to something that is really quite rare in northern Vietnam: a beautiful sunny day! We took advantage of it and went out for a morning kayak trip around some nearby islands and beaches. Castaways had also hired a rock-climbing instructor to come to the island and we all got to enjoy the island's private climbing wall.<br />
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We then enjoyed a little beach time before Olive (another sadistic guide on the island) offered to take us tubing. Oli and Sundar had gone first and their bleeding wounds should have been an indication that it probably wasn't a good idea, but we decided that it wouldn't be that bad.<br />
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Mike, Josh, Heather and myself climbed onto the the over-sized raft. The motor-boat (or speed-boat as we would soon find out) sped ahead at surprisingly fast speeds. While going in a straight line it was rather fun and a pretty awesome way to see the karst mountains surrounding our island. We were probably speeding at around 40-50km/hour when Olive and Gay decided that we had stayed on the raft long enough. They pulled a sharp turn and we flew off and hit the water hard enough to tear off scabs (that's why Oli and Sundar were bleeding).<br />
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Dazed and in slight pain, Heather and Mike bowed out and said that they were good just to ride in the boat. Josh and I stupidly decided to give it another go (a decision which I would come to regret for 2 months after the fact).<br />
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This time it was just Josh and I on the raft and the ruthless guides didn't feel as though we deserved to stay on for any amount of time. They brought the boat up to what felt like warp speeds and once again, made a sharp turn and Josh and I were airborne. While flying through the air, I instantly regretted my decision, and as soon as I hit the water, life began to suck. I was instantly winded and it took a good 30 seconds before I could draw a breath. I was also pretty sure that I had either broken a rib or at least severely bruised it (yes, I still did have pain in it up to two months later).<br />
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While nursing my sore rib, we were invited one last time out onto the boat for some wake boarding. Olive assured me that this would be an enjoyable experience and I reluctantly believed him. He kept his word and we all got a shot on the wake board and I was pretty stoked that I was able to stand up on my first attempt. The other castaways gave it a shot, while those on the boat enjoyed the scenery and soaked up the sun.<br />
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As the sun began to set, a bunch of us invented some kind of volleyball/badminton hybrid game, while the rest of us devised our own initiation for the Castaway crew on their way to the island. Ours was far more kind and didn't involve the group jumping into a hole.<br />
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As expected, that night was an absolute shit-show and I thought that the partying and drinking would reach its climax that night. I was wrong.<br />
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Very wrong. <br />
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Since most to all of the details were unconscious memories to me, I have employed the writing styles of Mike Risi, who meticulously documented the debauchery and contributed the following paragraphs to this post: <br />
<br />
<i>After two rowdy nights on the island in Ha Long bay, the
unofficial introduction to Asia for myself and the grand finale of Asia for Josh,
we woke up expecting a low-key three hour boat ride back to the mainland,
followed by a three hour bus back to Hanoi. James and I had planned on hoping
on the night bus to Hue in the evening and figured we would have a day to recover.
After all, we had partied hard the previous three nights (2 of which were on
the island) and were in need of some recuperation. The boat ride started pretty
normally with the anticipated grogginess of an early morning wake-up call from
an alcohol-inspired sleep. We were all chilling on the mats making small talk
when about an hour in, Gay, who was beginning a stretch of a few days off in
Hanoi, had the brilliant idea that we were going to start shot-gunning beers. </i><br />
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<i>Most people thought better of it but there was seven of us who somewhat passively
decided to participate: Me, James, Josh, Jagger, Sidecar, Charlie, and of
course Gay. In what became one of the better decisions I made in Asia, I
decided that the first shotgun wasn’t feeling well in my stomach and it was one
and done for me. Little did I know, this would reduce me to the position
of babysitter for the remainder of the day! </i></div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
(Photo Credit: Heather Corner)</div>
<br /></div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<i>Someone foolishly suggested that they would do shotguns every 15
minutes and the six of them began to rotate rounds for the group. After three
rounds, Charlie presumably foresaw the destruction and decided that she was
going to sit the rest of them out. Her disinterest didn’t dissuade the
remaining 5 who charged on. And so they did. Aside from a lunch break on the
boat, the fab-5 plowed through 6 shotguns at roughly 15 minute intervals before
pulling up to shore. Concurrently, the group was also fully engaged in the game
of life and were frequently doing 10 push-ups for their infractions. From my
perspective having witnessed all 6, the group was doing pretty well. It was
getting loud and rowdy but most, if not all, shotguns were being consumed
quickly with minimal spillage. Tunes were playing and it was a good time.
However; there were a few warning signs of the destruction that lay ahead.
First of all, Gay purchased approximately 20 beers from the boat with the
intention of sneaking them onto the bus. Secondly, and more significantly in this
recollection, was that James was stumbling while exiting the boat and was
having difficulty putting on his backpack. I had to take it off the boat. </i></div>
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<i>Back on the bus, the recklessness continued. We were
situated at the back of the bus in a feeble attempt to hide the beer shot-gunning
from the bus driver while the intelligent ones sat quietly at the front half.
The fab-5 continued to charge on and things were getting messy as beer was
starting to get spilled. That said, the 15 minute intervals were more strictly
enforced. It was hilarious watching offenders do pushups in the narrow hallway
of the bus. As their state of intoxication increased there were many memorable
incidents from my perspective. Charlie and Gay were clearly an “item” at this
point and were frolicking as such. Jagger was unsuccessfully flirting with
Erika who albeit playful, wasn’t reciprocating and James was, at approximately 3 times the
legal driving limit and most likely dark-sided, proposed to Kaja a life full of
matrimonial bliss. While she didn’t say yes, she pretended she was entertained
by the affection! By about 9 beers, there were many full bladders and the
thought of the fab-5 pissing in the bus convinced the driver, who seemed pissed
off with the entire situation, to pull over to the side of the road and let the
group and others stumble off to relieve themselves. </i></div>
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<i>It was around this time, that things started to get really
messy. James seemed a little more intoxicated then the rest of the fab-5 and
Gay who seemed like he shot-gunned beers at 15 minute intervals regularly, was
starting to have some doubts as to how much further James could go. The
remainder of the fab-5 and myself, the caretaker, vehemently defended his
coherence and his ability to stay in the game. At several points, Josh and I
contributed by saying that we had seen James more drunk than this. After the 11<sup>th</sup>
shotgun, which in my view was clean by the fab-5, Gay was more adamantly opposing
James’s continuation of the game and it became the primary topic of
conversation. Meanwhile, Josh seemed like he was having a nervous breakdown. He
could not find his iPhone – the apparent life-blood to his life in Montreal,
his work connections, important information, and his “flavor of the month”
idea to work in Dubai. He needed to find that phone. We checked bags (as I had
hidden James’s iPhone and wallet in fear of him losing it), under benches,
everywhere. Josh was scrambling. He even thought it might have fallen out
during the piss break. It was like he suddenly sobered up in fear of losing his
most valuable possession. Suddenly, Sidecar picked it up from somewhere near
Josh and asked if this was it. The look of relief on Josh’s face was palpable.</i></div>
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<i>12<sup>th</sup> shot-gun: Game over....for James. He spilled
3/4s of that beer and was falling over in the process. The beer was all over
the hallway of the bus, not to mention the benches....I threw in the proverbial
towel at that point. If James Michael Schuster was a boxer, he was knocked out.
Gay and I momentarily argued as he re-stated his claim that James was done
after 11. My defense was that the 11<sup>th</sup> shot-gun was clean and he
deserved to fight on. There was no defense to be had after the 12<sup>th</sup>
shot-gun. But James, basically incoherent and lifeless at this point was still
adamant that he wanted to continue. We pulled up to the break point of the bus
ride which interestingly enough, was full of expensive vases, some of which
were 6 feet tall! Considering James couldn’t walk straight at this point, he
was kept out of that building. Like someone at a gym, I became his
“walk-spotter” doing so much like someone would spot a squat. He couldn’t walk
but he wanted to continue. At the store, the fab-4 did their 13<sup>th</sup> shotgun
outside! James wanted in and was really making a scene. I think Jagger had the
idea that we would fill one of the previously shot-gunned beers up with water
and give it to him! We did! And then mockingly applauded his completion. He
gave no indication that he knew it wasn’t beer. On this break, we sat James
down on one of the stairs and I fed him water out of a bottle like he was an
infant. It was cute really. Then Josh, who was arguing pretty regularly with
James at this point after 7 odd months of companionship, popped the bottle in
James’s face and the water spilled all over his shirt. This infuriated James
but he was helpless to do anything. </i></div>
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<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<i>At this point, it was time to leave. The fab-4 tried to
sneak more beers on the bus to continue but the driver was having none of it. I
think Jagger managed to get 1 or 2 on. James was staggering onto the bus when
he delivered his most memorable line of the day. I walked right behind him with
my arms under his armpits to support him as he passed the intelligent people on
the front of the bus. I thought he was going stumble onto some innocent victim
when he uttered “don’t judge me bitches” as we staggered by. It was priceless.
The last hour of the bus ride home was pretty uneventful, fab-4 plus James
essentially passed out. There was one stop though: Sidecar awoken and walked to
the front of the bus and asked the driver to stop. I believe he was the first
and only one to throw up.</i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When we arrived back at the hostel, we came to
the conclusion that we could not possibly take the night bus that night,
postponed the journey by a day, and booked another night in a dorm room in
Hanoi. Since that bus ride had been the only thing keeping me sober, I joined
the fray. We had a quick turn-around, showered up and starting drinking some
beers again. Rather unexpectedly, the entire group got going as before. The
beers were cheap and the next thing we knew, we were on our way to the
nightclub down the street to drink slightly more expensive beer. After another
night of drinking and dancing we were absolutely smashed! I recall jumping up
on the mini-stage/stripper pole and dancing myself with several shy, timid,
Vietnamese girls. This included joining some ballin’ Vietnamese guys and gals
at a table who were happily sharing their drinks and dancing with us. Asians
just love partying with Caucasians in their own country! Of course, none other
than James Michael Schuster led the charge. In typical communist Hanoi fashion,
the club closed around midnight and it was time to leave. James, who had
obviously re-entered the darkside, was plastered. Probably a combination of the
day drinking and the night drinking. We all left and it was pandemonium
outside. People were everywhere and James could not walk. Loy and I were
James’s armrests as we guided/carried him out and walked back to the hostel. I
don’t remember if we took the stairs or the elevator at the hostel as I was
drunk as well. But we got upstairs and as a group we were bouncing off the
walls of the hostel hallways until we managed to find the hostel room. We
quickly dumped James off on his bed where he instantly passed out, half on the
actual bed itself. Loy and I went back outside to look for the group who had
left for the second “after-club” but we were unable to find them. We shot the
shit for a bit and parted ways.</span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So</span><i><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">. </span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Needless to say, I woke up feeling beyond shitty the next day and almost everyone that was on o</span><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">ur</span><i><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></i><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">tour</span><i><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></i><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">was nursing varying degrees of hangovers.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Despite the hangover, a pain far greater than any alcohol-fueled decision I have ever had was on the horizon: Josh's departure. Mike and I were to continue south to Hue, Vietnam's imperial capital, and Josh would be headed back to Bangkok, to make his return back to Canada.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We had spent over 7 months together and visited 9 countries, only being apart for brief periods of time. He is like a brother to me, an incredible friend and awesome travel buddy. As Mike and I packed our things and boarded our night bus, I couldn't help but shed a tear for the amazing chapter that had just closed on my incredible adventure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><i><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></i> </div>
Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-5390833885623563132014-07-27T20:12:00.000-07:002014-07-27T20:12:39.596-07:00The Beauty H'mong Us<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLhXz2wrkPABmuGrReC0v0ia83N81Ccuzlc3uMRNaQBmaQgb6I4aL6vbXQG6FTTNL8Q1atX3AwWQ3VJ40mNx0gEOdCkAYyNQmNzVuOdi9488xIAjqfNGjqfKQ9h1fEGBRvy4hu0Stad4/s1600/CSC_1034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
Feb. 28th-Mar. 2nd<br />
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Aside from visiting all of Hanoi's historical wonders and partying our asses off, we still somehow managed to find time to organize a trip to the mountainous region of northern Vietnam.<br />
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Our train left Hanoi during the night, and since we opted for the cheapest package, our upright seats assured that we got as little sleep as possible.<br />
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We arrived at <i>Lao Cai</i> shortly before sunrise and were greeted by the usual pushy tout who brought us to our minibus for the rest of the journey to Sapa, our final destination. We were joined by a Brazilian girl named Joana who was finishing up her stint in South East Asia, and I spent the ride picking her brain for information on Vietnam and Myanmar.<br />
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After a beautiful drive through spiraling rice terraces and jagged mountains, Mike, Josh and I were dropped off at our hotel, the immaculate Sapa Summit Hotel. Considering the price we paid for our package, this hotel was far beyond my expectations. We checked into our room and made our way down to the dining area for breakfast.<br />
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Not only was the breakfast filling, but the dining area led to beautiful terrace overlooking Sapa and its mountainous landscape.<br />
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After breakfast we went back to the lobby and were greeted by our Black H'mong guide, Em. Although she looked like a child herself, she said she was 18 years old and had recently given birth to her first child. She seemed to almost beam with pride when she said she started working again only six or seven days after having given birth.<br />
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Sapa was established as a French Hill Station in 1922 and is now the epicenter of Northern Vietnam's Hill-Tribe tourism. The city is frequented by many of Vietnam's ethnic minorities and it is not uncommon to see women in beautifully coloured costumes and head-dresses selling their wears in Sapa's various markets and squares.<br />
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Out of the several minority tribes that call the <i>Hoang Lien Son</i> mountain range their home, over half of them are of the H'mong group. Em said her sub-group, the Black H'mong, could be recognized by their dark-indigo dresses. Although younger members of this group wear plainclothes in their everyday life, most would still wear their traditional costumes for special occasions and while guiding photo-op hungry tourists such as myself.<br />
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We started our leisurely descent towards the H'mong <i>Catcat </i>village. Although now considered a tourism area, many H'mong people still live in traditional houses, raise pigs and produce high quality textiles and clothing.<br />
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As we made our way to the village, the similarities to neighbouring China were quite evident: the magnificent rice terraces spread out as far as the eye could see reminded me of when I got lost in the rice terraces in <i>Guangxi </i>province in southern China.<br />
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Our mostly downhill walk culminated at the beautiful <i>Tien Sa</i> waterfall, where we stopped to take some group pictures, before watching a H'mong dance show.<br />
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While down at the waterfall, we met a Kuwaiti girl who would be joining us for the rest of our day. Unfortunately, she was as bratty as she was beautiful (and damn she was attractive!).<br />
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After having a good lunch and listening to our Kuwaiti princess insult our Vietnamese waiter for not speaking English, we asked the hotel manager where we should visit by motorbike. He gave us a map of the area and crudely wrote where some of the places of interest were.<br />
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After struggling to find the gas-station in downtown Sapa, we were finally on our way uphill onto the winding roads in the <i>Hoang Lien Son</i> mountains.<br />
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I've been on some pretty impressive roadways in the past, but this road has to have been one of the nicest. This mountain range is at the eastern extremity of the Himalayas; and their jagged, rugged peaks are a hiker's dream.<br />
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We spent the rest of the afternoon zipping around on our motorbikes, admiring the scenery, visiting some waterfalls, and just loving life in Northern Vietnam.<br />
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Because Josh was chauffeuring around the Sultana of Kuwait, Mike and I sped ahead and eventually lost sight of them. We searched around a bit, but eventually gave up and climbed a nearby lookout point. <br />
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This lookout point gave great views of Vietnam's highest peak, <i>Fansipan, </i>standing at 3143m (10,312ft).<br />
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After pretending we actually saw the peak of <i>Fansipan, </i>we drove back towards Sapa as the setting sun illuminated the rice terraces in a gentle golden hue.<br />
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The next day, we were once again greeted by Em, who would be guiding us deeper into the countryside, where we would be staying overnight at a local homestay. We were joined by a French couple and Yulia from Russia.<br />
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The walk was incredibly scenic and Em allowed us to take many breaks along the way to admire the sprawling rice terraces and to catch our breaths from the combination of blistering sun and lack of shade.<br />
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We stopped for lunch and were instantly pestered by little H'mong girls trying to sell us colourful scarfs and bracelets. Although Mike and I each bought a scarf, the little girls kept harassing us until I responded '<i>Ochow</i>' (thank you in the H'mong language), which Em had taught me earlier. In fact, every time I used the word from that point on, the touts would leave me alone. Genius!<br />
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What was particularly funny, was the approach these girls took to selling their items. They would all repeat "buy from me" in a monotone, children-of-the-corn-type refrain until someone would finally give in. It worked more often than not.<br />
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A short while later, we arrived in the multi-ethnic <i>Ta Van</i> village that would act as our home for the night. The vibrant headscarfs and clothing of the local women were a sharp contrast to the arid yellows and greens of the surrounding hills.<br />
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After dropping off our stuff, Mike, Yulia and I climbed up a steep path in order to get a nicer view of the area, but a growling dog made that goal unattainable.<br />
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Following a nice home-cooked meal, we chilled at Luckydaisy's Bamboo Bar, conveniently located right across the road from our homestay, before coming back and enjoying just the right amount of rice moonshine and calling it a night.<br />
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The next day we continued our walk toward <i>Giang Ta Chai</i> village, passing local children, animals, and traversing a small bamboo forest to get there.<br />
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Before reaching the village, we took a brief stop at yet another waterfall before having lunch and getting a ride back to Sapa.<br />
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Despite the touristic nature of Sapa and its guided treks, I would still highly recommend it. The scenery is quite different than other places in Vietnam and the climate is a nice change from the humid cloud that perpetually drapes over most of Vietnam's north.<br />
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Even though we only spent 2 days walking around the area, there are actually hundreds of kilometers of paths and numerous minority villages that rarely receive foreign visitors, if you desire a more self-guided approach.<br />
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Another night train awaited us that evening and before we knew it, we would be leaving tranquil Sapa and would awake in chaotic Hanoi, ready for the next round of culture and drunken shenanigans, and oh what drunken shenanigans they would turn out to be... Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-4674415162448772082014-04-21T13:08:00.000-07:002014-04-21T13:08:32.494-07:00Vietnam: Good Evening Vietnam!Feb 25th-27th<br />
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MICHAEL ALAN RISI has been a friend of mine for quite some time: we met while traveling in Amsterdam in 2006, and have since traveled together to eastern Canada, Spain, Portugal, Andorra and Morocco; and most recently to Las Vegas along with Josh in 2011. Mike is one of the few people I know who is always down to meet up somewhere in the world and never breaks his travel promises.<br />
Josh and I had coordinated our time in Laos to coincide with Mike's arrival in Hanoi.<br />
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Once off the murder bus, we split a cab with some eastern European guy and were let off in Hanoi's famed Old Quarter, where Mike had reserved us a room at the incredible Hanoi Backpackers (<a href="http://www.hanoibackpackershostel.com/">www.hanoibackpackershostel.com</a>).<br />
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When we entered the hostel we were greeted by a vast majority of our fellow passengers from the murder bus.<br />
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Great. The party had come to us!<br />
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When we got to our room, we found Mike passed out on the bed due to a combination of jet-lag and anticipatory partying prior to our arrival.<br />
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We woke him up but the importance of this reunion was slow to dawn on him considering his semi-lucid state. Once he came to, he had the celebratory reaction Josh and I had been expecting.<br />
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We exchanged crazy stories detailing how we had got to Hanoi and proceeded to join the others for a late-night snack.<br />
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Hanoi, much like Laos, has a strict communist-imposed curfew at midnight and finding anything to eat or drink proved rather difficult.<br />
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We finally found a roadside pastry-shop and then a Spanish bar whose drawn shades and toned-down music reminded me of a speakeasy during the prohibition-era United States.<br />
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We finished our contraband and called it a night.<br />
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Hanoi, Vietnam's capital city, is the country's vibrant epicenter of culture, history and culinary splendor. Having survived over 1000 years of rule by the Chinese; colonization by the French; occupation by the Japanese and bombardment by the Americans, it still stands as a testament to the strength of the northern Vietnamese people and has been the capital of a reunified Vietnam since the end of the Vietnamese War in 1976.<br />
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With so much to see and do, we divided up our explorations into various districts. Our first stop was Hoa Lo Prison, just a short walking distance from the Old Quarter.<br />
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Hoa Lo Prison was originally built by the French Colonists in 1886-1889, and used to detain Vietnamese political prisoners opposed to the French's colonization of <i>Indochine, </i>Hanoi being its capital.<br />
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During the Vietnamese war, it was used by the North Vietnamese to incarcerate American POWs. Many American pilots were held there including the eventual Republican Presidential nominee John McCain. It is during this time that the prison was mockingly nicknamed "The Hanoi Hilton".<br />
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The prison now acts as a museum and contains various exhibitions depicting the 'conditions' prisoners lived in. Like any communist regime, propaganda is their weapon of choice, and these depictions are said to be far less barbaric than they actually were: they have pictures of American soldiers playing sports, and have no mention of the torture and poor conditions that the POWs were actually subjected to.<br />
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Our next stop was to Hanoi's famous Temple of Literature. This Confucius temple was built in 1070 A.D. and is considered Vietnam's first University.<br />
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The temple itself is modeled after that of its namesake in Qufu, China, and comprises five courtyards.<br />
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It was a beautiful place and would have been quite peaceful if it weren't for the hundreds of tourists meandering inside. What was rather nice, however, was that there was a procession of women dressed in traditional costumes performing a ceremony as we approached the main courtyard.<br />
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From there we made a brief stop at the Lenin Monument and then headed to <i>Hoan Kiem</i> Lake. <br />
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<i>Hoan Kiem</i> lake is at the center of historic Hanoi and serves as a refuge from the chaos unfolding around it. At its center is <i>Ngoc Son</i> Temple which is dedicated to a 13th century military leader who fought the Chinese occupation.<br />
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Not only is it a place of spiritual significance, but also a place where tourists flock, elderly locals play games and children search for the rarely-seen turtles apparently living in the lake.<br />
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The following day Mike and I made decided to explore some of Hanoi's lesser visited spots. We started by passing the Hanoi Opera house and made our way back to the Old Quarter.<br />
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On the way we stopped at the memorial house: one of the Old Quarter's best restored properties. It is a traditional merchant's house and a good representation of what a wealthy Vietnamese family would have lived in a hundred years ago.<br />
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We continued to explore the Old Quarter with its city gates and frenetic atmosphere. After dodging hundreds of thousands of motorbikes at every turn, we finally reached <i>Dong Xuan</i> Market, the largest covered market in Hanoi. To be honest, this market; while big and selling pretty much everything, proved to be worth only a few minutes of browsing before we lost interest and decided to head back to the hostel.<br />
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Our final stop before meeting up with Josh was the <i>Ly Thai Tho</i> statue and his accompanying park. <i>Ly Thai Tho </i>was the emperor who moved Vietnam's capital city to Hanoi and who ruled the country from 1009-1028A.D. Considering his importance to the city, I would have figured his statue would have been bigger.<br />
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It seems that no matter how important somebody is to Vietnam or the country's ancient history, no one even comes close to the significance and importance of this contemporary figure in Vietnam: Ho Chi Minh.<br />
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Ho Chi Minh, meaning bringer of light, was the founder of the Vietnamese Communist party and the first president of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam from 1946 to his death in 1969. Not only did he lead a guerrilla campaign and defeated the french in 1954, but he also went on to lead Northern Vietnam against the South Vietnamese and the Americans in the Vietnamese war. He died before the end of the war and never got to see the reunification of the two Vietnams in 1975 following the South's surrender to the North.<br />
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He is a venerated figure throughout the north of Vietnam (many southerners don't share the same admiration, which is rather understandable), and affectionately known as "Uncle Ho" to many Vietnamese, young and old.<br />
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Although he is referred to as uncle, he is treated more like a god in this city of 3.7 million. He is on all their money, the hilarious named Dong; has countless statues, museums and monuments dedicated to him; and even had the capital of Southern Vietnam renamed to Ho Chi Minh City from its former name of Saigon, following their defeat to the North.<br />
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Despite his modest lifestyle, and desire for a simple cremation, the grandest monument of all is his mausoleum located in the center of the city. Like Lenin and Stalin before him, it was decided that he would be embalmed and put on display for a Vietnamese to pay their respects.<br />
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The mausoleum itself is an imposing structure and heavily guarded by white-clad soldiers. It is said that it was constructed by materials coming from all across the reunified country. Before entering, I had to check in my camera and hope that it would be returned to me upon my exit.<br />
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Mike and I had to leave relatively early in the morning in order to make it during the 2-hour window it is open each day. Once we finally entered the heavily air-conditioned building, I was in awe of the surprisingly well-preserved corpse of uncle Ho and the 4 soldiers guarding his body in statue-like positions. We had to walk in single-file and weren't allowed to stop and stare: we were out of the building within a few minutes of entering it and my camera was thankfully returned to me as promised.<br />
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We then walked to the One Pillar Pagoda, which is also within the mausoleum complex and was constructed by <i>Ly Thai Tong </i>in 1049<i> </i>. The pagoda itself is a reconstruction as the original was destroyed by the french before they were expelled from the country. <i>Putain!</i><br />
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We then visited the Ho Chi Minh Museum and got a big enough dose of Ho to last us at least a few weeks. Thinking that Josh would eventually meet us outside the mausoleum, we sat around and waited. He never came but we did get to talk to a Vietnamese student. While she must not have been older than her early twenties, she spoke of uncle Ho as if he was her father.<br />
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From there we went to the Army museum and took numerous photo ops with all the weaponry on display outside the museum.<br />
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It is also located next to the iconic flag tower, which provides nice views over the museums grounds.<br />
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Our final stop of the day was the Hanoi Citadel. Despite my obsession with UNESCO World Heritage sites and most touristic places of interest, I only found out what this building was after looking it up upon my return to Canada.<br />
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The citadel was originally built built it 1010A.D., and remained the seat of Imperial Vietnam until 1810, when the capital of Vietnam was changed to Hue.<br />
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Despite its UNESCO designation in 2010, Mike and I were the only westerners there and could enjoy a leisurely stroll around its grounds. It didn't hurt that a large group of beautiful Vietnamese women were taking photos in traditional costumes while I took photos of them with my zoom lens like a creeper. <i> </i> <br />
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From what I've written, it may sounds as though all we did was visit historical sites, visit museums and pay respect to a certain Ho. However, Hanoi has way more to offer than just that.<br />
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In fact, Hanoi has one of the better backpacker scenes in South East Asia. First of all, the hostel, Hanoi Backpackers, is one of the best hostels I have ever been to. They had nightly barbeques, giant <i>jenga</i> games and would have a free keg of <i>Bia Hoi</i> every couple of days.<br />
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To the uninitiated, <i>Bia Hoi </i>means fresh beer and literally has to be drunk within a day or two of when it is produced, otherwise it goes bad. You can find it all over Vietnam and it usually sells for around 10 cents a mug or less (not even kidding). <br />
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The hostel had a second property that we usually ended up at after our free keg and where the party continued. It was closer to some other bars and clubs, including the infamous <i>Hair of the Dog bar,</i> that we would wind up at after closing down the hostel bar.<br />
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So with an amazing party scene; great food and terrific coffee; and more history than you can shake a stick at; Hanoi can still provide you with enough Ho without wasting all your <i>Dong</i>!<br />
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<br />Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-531224362632880312014-02-16T14:21:00.001-08:002014-02-16T14:21:10.221-08:00Riverside Calm Before the Bus Ride of DeathFeb 20th-24th<br />
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As soon as we arrived back in Huay Xai, we were already booked on a 10-hour night-bus back to Luang Prabang.<br />
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No sooner had it arrived in Luang Prabang, we were already on a 7-hour connecting bus to Vang Vieng, the final stop on this arduous leg of our Laotian journey.<br />
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Vang Vieng is a small town nestled along the slow-moving Nam Song river, with beautiful karst mountains forming its backdrop.<br />
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As picturesque and relaxing as this sounds, it was at one time the hedonistic capital and biggest party destination in all of South East Asia. Yes, bigger than Koh Pha-Ngan, Koh Phi-Phi and Sihanoukville. <br />
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Being in South East Asia for a few months now, I would often see singlets and t-shirts saying 'Vang Vieng: In the Tubing', the grammatically bizarre slogan of this party place.<br />
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This tubing is where the party takes place: everyone rents a tube and floats down the Nam Song, sharing mixed drinks everyone brings along with them.<br />
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Along the river are makeshift bars, selling or even giving away buckets of incredibly strong booze and selling drugs anywhere from weed to crystal meth.<br />
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So when everyone is fucked out of their minds, this is when they have rope-swings and zip-lines over the river, which during the dry season is actually quite shallow in many places and incredibly fast-moving during the wet season.<br />
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All these elements created the most epic party imaginable except for the fact that in 2011-2012, over 20 people, mostly Australians, reportedly died there, and the Australian government told the Laotian government to shut it down.<br />
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The Laotian government did in fact shut it down and actually torched many of the riverside stalls to the ground, putting an end to the party and the party-related deaths that came with it.<br />
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When we arrived, Vang Vieng was a shadow of its hedonistic self: they had only recently allowed tubing to resume and had only given permission to two bars to operate along the river, along with an incredibly strict no-drug policy, as well as a no-jumping-or-swinging-into-the-river policy.<br />
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Fair Enough.<br />
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Josh and I went there knowing about the shut down, but decided to check it out anyways and enjoy the beautiful scenery and relaxing atmosphere.<br />
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Despite the crackdown, we still managed to find a few popping bars and were still quite hungover following our first night out.<br />
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What better way to cure a pounding hangover than to go rock climbing!<br />
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I had enjoyed it so much in Railey and Josh had never tried it before, so we decided to take advantage of the limestone karst surrounding us.<br />
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Our guide, from Adam's Rock Climbing School (www.Laos-climbing.com), brought us to a beautiful portion of the Nam Song where we could prove our strength and flexibility while simultaneously sweating out our hangovers.<br />
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After our morning of rock-climbing, I thought what better way to relax my soon-to-be-sore muscles, than floating down the river on a tube for a few hours.<br />
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Also, I wanted to buy a Vang Vieng singlet and thought I would be a hypocrite if I bought one and didn't actually tube. Josh didn't feel this turmoil and decided to sit this one out.<br />
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I brought only enough money to cover my tube rental and the deposit, along with Josh's underwater camera (The pictures and movies on it are still in Josh's possession so they are not being posted).<br />
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However, as soon as I hopped on the complimentary tuk tuk, I was instantly handed a water-bottle full of Lao whisky and coke.<br />
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Victoria and Sonia from the UK, Bram from Holland and Rigmor from Germany instantly welcomed me into their floating crew.<br />
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Since it was dry season and the water levels were quite low, we floated along the Nam Song at a fantastically leisurely pace.<br />
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Our initial group of 5 had swelled to at least 50-60 by mid-river and although I had never experienced it in its heyday, this was the tubing I was hoping for: relaxation, camaraderie and beautiful scenery; not to mention a little booze, some house music and some amazing times.<br />
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I partied with my adoptive crew for the rest of the evening and joined them at Moon Bar, the busiest late-night spot in Vang Vieng at the time.<br />
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The following day, Josh and I headed back to Vientiane to pick up our passports which we left at Funky Monkey hostel in order to get Vietnamese visas.<br />
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My good friend and travel buddy from Vancouver, Mike, was arriving to Hanoi, Vietnam on the 24th of February and Josh and I wanted to make sure we'd be there the same day to meet up with him.<br />
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Before our night-bus, we had the day to kill in Vientiane, so I decided to check out its sites.<br />
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My first stop was <i>Patuxai</i>, which should be called Laos' Arch de Triomphe. While it resembles Paris' monument in size and location, the fact that it remains unfinished since it was built in 1969 and its view looks out on a city completely devoid of any skyscrapers or even an impressive building, the comparisons end there.<br />
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From there I walked to <i>Pha That Luang</i>, or the Great Stupa. This monument is the most venerated and important in all of Laos. It is gilded in gold leaf and is quite beautiful to look at.<br />
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Unfortunately I arrived during the museum's lunch break so I wasn't able to enter the structure.<br />
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Lonely Planet doesn't recommend that travelers take the bus from Vientiane to Hanoi due to duration, hassle and negative experiences of their readers. We decided to neglect these warnings and would do it anyways! How bad could it be?<br />
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This bad.<br />
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We were picked up at 5pm from our hostel and driven to the bus station. After numerous futile efforts, a kind bus attendant finally told us the shitty-buses that touts were trying to get us on were not in fact the bus we had reserved.<br />
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When our foreigner-loaded bus did finally pull up, we put our things on it, only to have it drive away and not return for another hour.<br />
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When it did return, with our things thankfully still on it, we only left the bus station at 7:15pm.<br />
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The bus only arrived at the Vietnamese border at 2:30am and waited another 4 hours before it actually opened at 6:30am.<br />
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Trying to get our passports stamped among scores of Laotians and Vietnamese yelling and pushing their way through was not my idea of pleasant at this time of morning.<br />
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Once we all got stamped, we had to walk for 30 minutes through a very run-down and dreary no-mans-land.<br />
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It was already 8:30am by the time we all had our passports processed and our bags searched; and our driver was impatiently yelling at us to hurry up.<br />
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For the next 2 hours he drove like an absolute maniac, swerving and racing as if his life depended on it.<br />
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At one point, he swerved and seemed to have hit something. We all assumed it had been an animal.<br />
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Looking out the back window of the bus, we could see a person lying in a lifeless heap on the ground, their face covered in blood.<br />
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Some people on the bus ran out to see if the person was alive and if there was anything they could do to help.<br />
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By this point, local villagers had come to investigate and watched the drama unfold with dopey, unfazed grins on their faces.<br />
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Eventually they flagged down one of the few non-motorbike vehicles who would drive the victim to the nearest hospital, wherever that might be.<br />
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It was after this point that the police arrived to take pictures of the crime scene <i>a la</i> CSI and question the incredibly shaken-up driver.<br />
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After all of this, the police told the driver to continue to drive us to the nearest town! Unbelievable considering how on edge he must have been at this point.<br />
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Four hours after hitting that poor man, whose fate remains unknown, we finally reached the next big town to change buses and thankfully change drivers.<br />
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Our new bus was only on the road for an-hour-and-a-half before it pulled into a garage and proceeded to get a tire-change, and not just one tire, but fucking all of them!!!<br />
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It was almost 6pm by the time we were back on the road towards Hanoi.<br />
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Miraculously, the bus didn't stop anymore and we finally arrived at Hanoi's south bus station by 8:30pm, almost 28 hours after our initial pickup from Vientiane!<br />
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Despite the long and tedious drive and incredibly erratic driving by our 2 bus drivers, at least everyone on board arrived safe and sound. I just hope and pray that the poor man who was struck by our maniacal bus will one day be able to say the same.Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-64640517818540671182014-02-08T12:14:00.000-08:002014-02-08T12:14:45.686-08:00The Zippin' ExperienceFeb 16th-19th<br />
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While we were still in Don Det, Josh and I had tried to reach the Gibbon Experience's office several times. Thankfully, Josh was eventually able to reach them and secure a reservation. However, due to the distance and timing of our reserved date, we had no choice but to be in perpetual motion and on a ridiculous amount of buses in order to reach it.<br />
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In Huay Xai, we found a place to spend the night and waited around until the park's office opened. When it did, we registered, paid and were briefed about the schedule for the following days.<br />
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In the afternoon, after several phenomenal mango smoothies, I made my way to a hilltop <i>wat</i> and then attempted to visit an old French hill station, which was unfortunately closed when I reached its gates.<br />
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For the Gibbon Experience, Josh and I opted for the classic package: this option entails less trekking than the other option, but with more zip-lines and time to enjoy the raw beauty of the jungle from above its sprawling canopy.<br />
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Before starting our trek, we were joined by around twenty other travelers. We all then hopped in the back of various trucks and were driven towards the forest in Bokeo Nature Reserve.<br />
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After several hours of paved roads, we turned off onto a bumpy dirt path carved into the jungle.<br />
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This road eventually brought us to a small village where the previous group of trekkers were waiting to be brought back to Huay Xai.<br />
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Once out of the trucks, a few guides greeted us and led us into the jungle. <br />
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The hike started off fairly easy, but soon became steep and more challenging.<br />
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We were all sweaty messes by the time we got to the 'base camp', but the physical activity was a great change of pace to the day's worth of bus travel we had done in order to get there.<br />
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It was here where we were given our harnesses for the zip-lining and split into groups for the various tree-houses.<br />
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Josh and I were joined by Teresa from Germany and Kara from Australia. The four of us would be sharing treehouse 4.<br />
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Once we had been assigned to a group, we were then led to our tree-houses by our respective guides.<br />
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Within minutes of splitting up, we already approached our first zip-line of the day. We were given instructions on how to attach the carbines and most importantly how to brake.<br />
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The initial anxiety subsided rather quickly once you felt the wind in your hair and the exhilaration of flying above a pristine jungle. It was quite remarkable to see just how fast we traveled and how high we were above the trees.<br />
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More trekking and several more zip-lines revealed just how deep into the jungle we actually were. It was refreshing to hear nothing but the sounds of nature and to really feel removed from it all.<br />
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So sweet.<br />
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Remarkably, our treehouse was only accessible via zip-line and provided a spectacular view onto the sprawling jungle canopy surrounding us.<br />
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It was Eco-friendly and surprisingly (and thankfully) sturdy considering it was 40-50 meters in the air.<br />
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After dropping off our things, we continued to zip-line over some nearby lines until the sun began to set and Josh almost broke his legs by underestimating just how fast he was going and started to brake too late.<br />
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The zip-line this happened on was half-a-kilometer long and we traversed it in around 30 seconds. Yep, that's fast!<br />
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After a great dinner and some laughs with our new friends, we called it an early night.<br />
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The Gibbon Experience (www.gibbonexperience.org), while focusing on zip-lining and trekking in practice, is actually an incredible conservation project for the project's namesake, the Black-Crested Gibbon.<br />
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Once poached for its fur, meat or just for fun; this animal was once at the brink of extinction in this area of Laos.<br />
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Thanks to the incredible ingenuity and hard work of the Cue Amino tour group, the hunters were encouraged to become guides and now earn a greater living from these animals alive, than they ever did dead.<br />
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The project has been in operation for almost 10 years and continues to grow in terms of interest and scope. Who knew that having so much fun could be so beneficial to the forest and its magnificent creatures!<br />
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Following our early night, we woke up to the jungle covered in a thick mist.<br />
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Although the visibility was low, the auditory stimulation was through the roof.<br />
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The black-crested gibbon makes a sound so distinct and bizarre that you'd have to hear it to believe it.<br />
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It starts off as a high-pitched sound that increases in pitch, speed and intensity as it progresses to the otherworldly siren-like sound that forms its throaty crescendo.<br />
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Although these animals scream like banshees, it is far more difficult to see them than to hear them. In fact, some groups leave the 3-day adventure without having seen them at all!<br />
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For the rest of the day, we trekked, zip-lined and visited the other groups' tree-houses. It seemed as though each zip-line got higher, faster and even more visually impressive as the day progressed.<br />
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The wow factor seemed to culminate on the way to tree-house 5, with its relative isolation, stature and dominant location.<br />
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Later, our guide decided to lead us through an unmarked trail to get to tree-house 1.<br />
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As we were climbing over downed trees and through thickets of untamed wilderness; there it was, high up in the trees, swinging with a grace and confidence like no other: the black-crested gibbon!<br />
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Although we could only see this rare animal for a few seconds, its impression on us (at least me), would surely last a lifetime.<br />
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Surprisingly enough, when we met up with the other groups, they too had seen gibbons on their respective trips!<br />
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A good time was had by all!<br />
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Despite the high price and long-distance traveled for this 3-day, 2-night trip; the amazing Bokeo Nature Reserve, the exhilarating rush of adrenaline at every turn, and the magnificent black-crested gibbon and its extraterrestrial cry, make this experience truly worth every agonizing hour spent on innumerable buses and worth every penny! Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-17630150897665075492014-02-04T11:34:00.001-08:002014-02-04T11:34:23.817-08:00Endless Bus Rides and a Few TemplesFeb 14th-15th<br />
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Matt had been so kind as to book Josh and I a room in Luang Prabang for the night because they were arriving 12 hours before us. What he failed to do, however, was tell me the correct name of the place.<br />
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After spending 10 hours on a bus, we only arrived after dark and spent over an hour searching for a guesthouse that didn't exist; until another backpacker finally understood what we were talking about and brought us to the right place.<br />
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There, we met up with Matt and Till who were enjoying a drink with fellow travelers and proceeded to have a night out on the town.<br />
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We started at the handicraft night-market to grab a bite and book our onward ticket to Huay Xai, our northernmost destination in Laos.<br />
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Then we went to Utopia Bar, easily the busiest and most popular of all Luang Prabang's backpacker-friendly bars. We enjoyed some drinks there before the bar closed at midnight.<br />
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What most people do after Utopia, is go to the local bowling alley and continue to drink there because there is some bizarre loophole in the communist constitution of Laos that exempts bowling alleys from the same rules and curfews as other bars.<br />
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Go figure.<br />
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We, on the other hand, opted to buy some beers and enjoy a nightcap on our guesthouse patio.<br />
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Luang Prabang is renown throughout Laos and the rest of the world as the spiritual heart of the country. Not only is it a UNESCO World Heritage site, but it houses thousands of Buddhist monks and countless temples and monasteries, some dating back hundreds of years.<br />
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Our first stop was Phu Si: a hill providing beautiful views over the peninsula and the Mekong river.<br />
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Phu Si is also home to That Chomsi, a modest yet beautifully located temple.<br />
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For the remainder of the day, the four of us visited numerous temples and monasteries; and marveled at the unique architecture and displays of monastic life in the former capital of the first Lao kingdom.<br />
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At a certain point, Till and Josh got bored of temples and monks and went off to grab a drink. Matt and I continued to explore the furthest reaches of the peninsula and stumbled upon <i>Wat Xieng Thong</i>.<br />
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<i>Wat Xieng Thong</i> was built in 1560 by King Setthathirat and represents the template for the classic Luang Prabang temple.<br />
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Matt and I continued our tour, stopping to admire several stunning views of the Mekong before heading back to join the others.<br />
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That afternoon, Josh and I went to do some last-minute shopping and snacking in the market before saying our final goodbyes to our German travel buddies.<br />
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After having spent less than 24 hours in Luang Prabang, it was already time for Josh and I to hop on yet another 10-hour bus ride, this time our destination being Huay Xai on the north-western border with Thailand.<br />
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While this is a relatively uninteresting city, it is the base for exploring Laos' most adrenaline fueled adventure: The Gibbon Experience.<br />
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Imagine zip-lining over one-hundred feet in the air, above pristine Laotian jungle, inhabited by a unique and rare primate, the black-crested gibbon.<br />
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Now imagine no further, I will tell you all about it!Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-43993731976770962002014-01-26T13:36:00.001-08:002014-01-26T13:36:33.266-08:00Laos: Like a Drunken BabyFeb 8th-13th<br />
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In Kratie, we had arranged a minivan to bring us to <i>Stung Treng</i>, the last big stop in Cambodia before the border with Laos.<br />
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From there, we took another minibus to the border. We waited for over an hour before everyone had their visas and passports processed. Despite having got a visa in advance, we still had to pay a stamping fee (aka bribe) to pass through customs.<br />
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We then walked through the no-mans land and onto yet another bus, this one bound for Don Det, our first destination in Laos.<br />
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Don Det is part of Si Phan Don, or Four Thousand Islands: a stunning portion of the southern Laotian Mekong river, comprising literally thousands of islets, sandbars and proper inhabited islands.<br />
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Once at the pier, we took a small boat to Don Det and were greeted by a group of backpackers swimming and tubing on Don Det's small beach. What was hilarious was that there was also a buffalo bathing along with them and as he was leaving, he took a massive shit just upstream from them. Needless to say, this prompted the swimmers to scream and get out of the water, much to our amusement.<br />
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Don Det is the primary backpacker island in Four Thousand Islands and since we were there in the high season, we knew accommodations would be hard to come by.<br />
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In fact, we walked around for quite some time before finally securing a basic room on the sunrise side of the island.<br />
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For the rest of the day, we just lounged around and enjoyed the river scenery.<br />
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That evening, we spent the first of many nights at Pool Bar, the most popular bar on the island. After about 2 or 3 of the tremendously famous Beer Lao, we had to call it a night because we could hardly keep our eyes open.<br />
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Since it was such an early night, I woke up and took a walk around the entire island. After only 10-minutes from our room, the accommodations thinned out and you could see the modest homes of local islanders and the gorgeous riverside landscape nestled between Don Det and neighboring Don Khon.<br />
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From there I walked another hour to the southern tip of the island and then made my way up the sunset (western) coast.<br />
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While this side was more sparsely occupied, it didn't have the same beautiful views as the eastern coast.<br />
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Upon my return, I was surprised to see Matt and Till relaxing at a beach-side restaurant. I joined them for a coffee and we discussed our respective plans for Laos.<br />
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I also joined them for a swim in the Mekong and luckily the resident bull was downstream from us.<br />
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That evening, Pool Bar was having a DJ from Europe spinning at a special event and they went as far as bribing the local police to keep the bar open until 1:30am!<br />
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Laos is officially a communist state and because of this, they have certain restrictive rules in place like 11pm curfews in some places, Si Phan Don being one of them.<br />
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The Dj was quite good and the four of us enjoyed buckets and danced on the cramped dance floor before it was last call. <br />
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After the party, everyone congregated on the small beach and continued the festivities, albeit without music or a dance floor.<br />
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At a certain point, Till was quite drunk and said he feels like a drunken baby, and when asked how that feels, he responded "comfortable" with a sleepy smile. It actually became a recurring joke after that night.<br />
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To unwind after a solid night of partying, Josh and I took a walk to Don Khon island.<br />
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It took around 45 minutes to reach the French-built bridge and we crossed over to Don Khon.<br />
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From Don Khon we then found <i>Khone Pa Soi</i> waterfall.<br />
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Our longer than expected journey took us through dry rice fields, purposefully burning crops and over a few suspension bridges before finally reaching the falls.<br />
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The falls were quite impressive and it was interesting to see how locals set up nets and other contraptions to catch fish in the strong currents.<br />
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Once back on Don Det, we met up with Till and Matt and enjoyed a delicious Indian meal.<br />
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We had reserved a bus to take us to Tha Khaek, our base for exploring Kong Lo cave. Till and Matt would also be joining us on this journey.<br />
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Don Det to Tha Khaek took roughly 11 hours and we arrived at almost 10pm. It then took us almost 2 hours of wandering around before finally finding a place to stay.<br />
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Tha Khaek is located just across the Mekong river from Thailand and because of this strategic location, many Thai businessmen come over for trade and cause room rates to be rather inflated and difficult to come by.<br />
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The following morning we hired a van to take the 4 of us to the <i>Phu Hin Bun</i> National Protected Area: home to Kong Lo cave.<br />
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Kong Lo cave is a 7.5 km cave/subterranean river passing through a huge limestone mountain. You need to hire a long-tail boat to traverse it.<br />
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After around halfway, you moor and walk through an impressive array of stalactites, before continuing the rest of the way by boat.<br />
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Of course, once back on the boat, the <u>safe</u> meal of chicken and rice I had eaten prior to our boat trip was not agreeing with me and I really wished I had popped an Imodium prior to leaving. At a certain point I broke out in a cold sweat and told our boat driver I needed to get off the boat, and fast! Luckily there was a massive gravel pit in the cave and I sprinted up it, pulling down my shorts just in the nick of time. I had no toilet paper at the time so I had to use my boxers to clean myself off. <br />
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So please, if you ever find yourself in Kong Lo cave and come across a pair of black Calvin Klein's, by all means do not pick them up! I turned one of the Laos' longest caves into the world's longest toilet! <br />
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Anyways, back to the boat trip...<br />
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It was extremely impressive to see the grandeur and absolute darkness (thankfully) when traversing the cave.<br />
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Once we reached the exit, we took a brief break before going back through to the mouth of the cave.<br />
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On our way back, our driver stopped at a viewpoint overlooking the beautiful mountainous countryside before completing the rest of the 2-hour drive back to Tha Khaek.<br />
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The next day, it took another 6 hours by luxury coach to reach Vientiane, the capital of Laos. <br />
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Matt and Till opted to immediately transfer onto a night bus to Luang Prabang, while Josh and I would spend a night in Vientiane before joining them the next day.<br />
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Before our German friends headed out, we briefly stopped in front of the <i>That Dum Stupa</i> (no joke!), and presidential palace.<br />
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In the past 3 days, we had driven over 23 hours between Don Det and Vientiane and we had another 10 hours of mountainous roads before reaching Luang Prabang the next day.<br />
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For such a small country, it sure takes a bloody long time to get anywhere!Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-91269447570174965642014-01-21T11:50:00.001-08:002014-01-21T11:50:49.956-08:00A History of Violence: From Tragedy to TriumphFeb 3rd-7th<br />
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We took a ferry back to Sihanoukville and had arranged a bus to Phnom Penh. We arrived after dark, taking a tuk tuk to our hostel, the awesome 88 backpackers (88backpackers.com).<br />
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Despite checking into a 12-person dorm, the room was incredibly spacious and very well air-conditioned.<br />
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Sweet dreams.<br />
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The following day we decided to learn more about Cambodia's horrifying contemporary history and went to visit <i>Tuol Sleng</i> museum or Security Prison 21 (S-21).<br />
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A little background: on April 17, 1975, the Khmer Rouge, led by Pol Pot, had taken over Phnom Penh and implemented his extreme-Maoist policies among its inhabitants.<br />
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He proclaimed 'year zero' or the restarting of Cambodian society and civilization as the world knew it.<br />
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As part of the restructuring, the city of Phnom Penh was virtually liquidated, its inhabitants forced to leave the city, march into the countryside and work in the fields as slaves for 12-15 hours per day in agrarian cooperatives.<br />
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Any enlightened individual or intellectual, comprising anyone capable of speaking another language, read, or even who wore glasses were executed by the thousands.<br />
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Many of these intellectuals, considered enemies of the state, passed through the various security prisons, including S-21, being executed in the various killing fields throughout the country.<br />
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<i>Tuol Sleng</i> was a high school prior to 1975. It was renamed Security Prison 21 when taken over by the Khmer Rouge.<br />
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Today, it is a museum commemorating all the men, women and children held and tortured within those walls.<br />
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It has remained untouched since it was liberated by the Vietnamese in 1979, blood stains still painting the dirty walls and floors.<br />
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Much like other genocidal regimes, the Khmer Rouge meticulously documented and photographed all its 17,000 prisoners, often after a fresh round of brutal torture.<br />
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What makes it particularly haunting is that these thousands of prisoners' pictures line the walls of the museum, personifying the terror that occurred in this complex. Some of the prisoners were children, being implicated in a purge they were even too young to comprehend.<br />
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Josh and I took our time walking through the various rooms, corridors and cells; reading the numerous posters explaining methods of torture and absolute horror inflicted on these innocent people.<br />
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It was a sobering and emotionally draining afternoon, but I'm very glad that we went.<br />
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It is said that out of the 17,000 prisoners held at S-21, only 7 survived and only because the prison was liberated by the Vietnamese before they could be executed.<br />
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Believe it or not, but some of the rescued 7 men actually continue to work as tour guides at S-21, acting as ambassadors for peace and to help young Cambodians understand about their modern history.<br />
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The following day, we went to the killing fields of <i>Choeung Ek</i>, 15km out of central Phnom Penh. We were joined by Maria from Mexico; and Matt and Till from Germany.<br />
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The five of us rented a tuk tuk that brought us to the site.<br />
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The killing fields are where most of S-21's prisoners were brought and bludgeoned to death: for the Khmer Rouge, bullets were too expensive to waste, so they used farming tools, bamboo shoots and pretty much anything else they could get their murderous hands on, killing the prisoners often in the longest and most excruciating way possible.<br />
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The now peaceful field is littered with mass graves and Buddhist prayer beads, honoring the victims.<br />
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The most intense part of the audio-guided tour was when we were led to an oak tree and it was explained that it was against this tree that babies and infants were slammed until they died.<br />
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The final stop on the tour was to a memorial stupa containing over 8000 skulls of victims and remnants of their clothes.<br />
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Like the killing caves near Battambang, it is unfathomable to believe that this is but one mass execution site out of hundreds during the four-year period that Pol Pot reigned.<br />
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It is estimated that up to 3,000,000 people were executed or died of starvation during the Khmer Rouge age.<br />
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What is also unbelievable is that the Khmer Rouge were viewed as the legitimate leaders of Cambodia by the UN until 1993!<br />
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However, the most unreal aspect of it all is how despite all the carnage and suffering, Cambodians are the most kind, sincere and warm people I have ever met.<br />
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There was not one day where I was not greeted by an ear-to-ear smile or waved at from an elderly person or child.<br />
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Cambodians are the personification of the human spirit and I am truly in awe of their amazing perseverance and incredible ability to rise above the past, no matter how difficult it may be.<br />
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After 2 days of lump-in-the-throat, tear-jerking emotional turmoil, the five of us needed a break.<br />
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Matt and Josh went to shoot an M16 and AK-47 at the military base, while I worked on my blog.<br />
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Josh and I had also handed in our passports in order to get a visa for Laos to resume our tour of Asian communist regimes.<br />
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To break up the trip, we decided to spend a night in Kratie, located on the mighty Mekong River.<br />
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Kratie, which lies on one of the most beautiful sections of the Mekong in Cambodia, is also home to the highest concentrations of Irrawaddy, or freshwater dolphins, in Laos and Cambodia.<br />
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In fact, the tourist office guarantees you will see these bizarre looking creatures on every boat-cruise they organize.<br />
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This section of the Mekong was absolutely stunning and to see it as the sun was setting and the dolphins breaching for air was breathtaking. A fitting end to our three weeks in this magnificent country.<br />
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While Angkor Wat was incredible and the museums heart-wrenching, it is the people that truly make this an unforgettable place, and I hope that as the years go by, their prosperity improves so that they can impart their amazing spirit on many more of those who are suffering as they did only several decades ago.Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-22340201628055955512014-01-14T12:56:00.001-08:002014-01-14T12:56:29.876-08:00Frequent Flyers and a Secret that Should not be ToldJan 28th-Feb 2nd<br />
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Fortunately for us, the minibus ride between Kampot and Sihanoukville would only take 2 hours, but for the first time in South East Asia, the bus actually arrived 30 minutes ahead of schedule!<br />
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Inconceivable.<br />
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The minibus dropped us off just a few meters from the central roundabout and it was just a short walk to our hostel, Panda Guesthouse (www.pandasihanoukville.com).<br />
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Sihanoukville, Cambodia's seaside resort haven, is a city like no other in Cambodia. As opposed to the usual flat, arid landscape encompassing most of the western and central portions of the country, Sihanoukville boasts kilometers of beautiful white-sand beaches.<br />
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Like most places in South East Asia, where there are beaches, there are backpackers and parties!<br />
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Our hostel, while not directly on the beach, was still only a 5-minute walk to Serendipity and Occheuteal beaches.<br />
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Once we settled in, we wandered down Occheuteal beach and stopped for some 50-cent draft beers. As we were relaxing, Willeke, a Dutch traveler we had met in Siem Reap wandered by. She joined us for a drink and would later join us for dinner.<br />
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After dinner, the flyer-kids were already out in full force: there are a number of bars on the beach that try to entice people to come to their bars by handing out flyers with various promotions or free drinks on them.<br />
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These incentives can range from getting a free drink for having a mustache (success!) or wearing a costume (something as simple as wearing a head band or bracelet).<br />
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Most places also give you a free shot before entering and a free beer at midnight, so all in all, with all these promotions and flyers you can get pretty drunk for next to nothing.<br />
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Josh and I usually split our time between JJ's Playground: a dirty bar with great music and a very strong smell of vomit; and Dolphin Shack, a bar with better music and a solid dance floor. Did I mention both had beer pong tables?<br />
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Needless to say that we would be at whichever bar had the best deals (aka free drinks) at whichever time.<br />
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After our first of many nights of partying, Willike accompanied me to Otres beach, a very relaxed (even by Cambodian standards) beach with next to no one pestering you to buy something.<br />
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After a blissful day there, we headed back to Serendipity for dinner and more flyer specials!<br />
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Following 3 nights of balls-to-the-wall partying, Josh and I decided to take it easy and head to Koh Rong island to relax and go scuba diving.<br />
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Unfortunately, on the eve of our departure, Josh got food poisoning and would have to spend another day in Sihanoukville.<br />
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I took a chartered tuk tuk to the pier and boarded a large boat destined to Koh Rong, the jumping off point for Cambodian diving in the Gulf of Thailand, and where I would be staying for 2 nights.<br />
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The boat took 2 hours and passed numerous islands along the way.<br />
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As soon as we arrived I knew that I would love it there: minimal development, very laid-back atmosphere, reggae music and no electricity; all the makings of a true island getaway.<br />
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I dropped my bags off at Paradise Bungalows and went back to the dive shop, Koh Rong Dive Center, for briefing before heading out on the sea.<br />
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I love diving: being on a boat and the feeling when you first jump into the tropical water just can't be beat. <br />
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It had been a month since I had last been diving in Thailand, but, while I don't want to outright say it sucked, the extremely low visibility, lack of fish due to the wonderful practice of dynamite fishing, and sparse coral made the dive sites a little lack-luster. I was still happy to have seen some crabs and stingrays though.<br />
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The rest of the day I just lounged around at one of the beach cafes and enjoyed my time in paradise.<br />
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The following day I would make my way to the secret beach on the other side of Koh Rong. To get there you need to traverse the jungle for close to an hour and climb down some pretty treacherous paths in order to reach it.<br />
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Once you exit the trees and behold this beach, even 4 hours through the jungle would have been worth it!<br />
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Perhaps it's the difficulty in getting there, or most backpackers are too lazy or hungover to walk there, but this diamond-in-the-rough of a beach is one incredible little secret.<br />
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The powder white sand stretches out for kilometers with not one, not even one shop, restaurant, stall or tout on it. There is virtually no garbage to be found and with a short walk you can have your own 500m stretch of ivory white sand and turquoise waters completely to yourself.<br />
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Unbelievable!<br />
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I spent several hours there until I felt like I was starting to burn and made the hike back to the inhabited side of the island.<br />
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Upon my return, Josh had already arrived and shared my point of view on the diving. I then spent quite some time gushing to him about the secret beach I had just returned from.<br />
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I had been fortunate enough to visit it while its pristine virgin sands remained intact. Sadly enough, there are apparently blueprints circulating on the internet of the future airport to be built on Koh Rong and the large-scale development projects that will surely follow shortly after.<br />
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While I do understand that Cambodians are extremely poor and are in dire need of income and employment generating projects; it's just sad that it comes at the expense of some of natures most beautiful places.<br />
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Paradise found. Paradise lost.Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-34320505081056678402013-12-29T16:52:00.000-08:002013-12-30T15:20:57.076-08:00Kam-pot Smoking and Pepper Crab Munchies<div style="text-align: left;">
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Jan 25th-27th<br>
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Following a brief stopover in Phnom Penh, we finally arrived in Kampot well after dark.<br>
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We had reserved a room at Ganesha Guesthouse (www.ganesharesort.com): a French-owned place by a stoner and his wife, situated several kilometers outside of the city center, next to the Kampot river.<br>
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Upon leaving the bus, two mototaxi drivers assured us they knew where it was and loaded our big packs between their knees and started to speed down the main road, turning off onto a dirt path into the jungle.<br>
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I was pretty sure I had seen a sign saying Ganesha but I assumed they knew where they were going.<br>
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At one point they seemed pretty confused and asked for directions. We approached another sign saying Ganesha and started to follow it down an extremely narrow path with palm trees flanking both sides, no lighting, and seemingly no indication that Ganesha was anywhere close by.<br>
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At one point, the trail became so precarious that Josh had to get off his bike and walk next to the driver.<br>
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It was at this point that I told them about the other sign I had seen and that it would be a good move if we went back to where we started.<br>
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With the help of a local woman, we found the original sign and eventually found Ganesha hidden deep in the jungle.<br>
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They knew where it was my ass!<br>
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Kampot is a quaint riverside town with a laid-back feel with French heritage buildings and a beyond-beautiful countryside. It is also famed, and rightly so, for its out-of-this-world pepper.<br>
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Since most points of interest were outside of the city, and even Ganesha itself was a less than convenient distance from the center of town; we would rent scooters to make our lives easier.<br>
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Our first destination was Kep, a seaside town around 25km from Kampot.<br>
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Although it was situated on the Gulf of Thailand, it really didn't have much beach to speak of, but what it lacked in beach, it more than made up for in seafood.<br>
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Kep is famous in Cambodia for its crab. At the crab market, women merely throw their crab-nets off the pier and haul in tons of these clawed Crustaceans.<br>
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Josh and I had been recommended a restaurant right by the market and indulged in a huge plate of sublime pepper crab, infused with Kampot's deservedly famous and beyond delicious pepper.<br>
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From there we attempted to find one of Kampot's pepper plantations but ultimately couldn't find one. So instead, we just drove around aimlessly, taking random roads to our heart's desire.<br>
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At one point, a woman asked for a lift to a <i>wat</i> up on a hill. She had her baby with her and thankfully hopped on the back of Josh's motorbike.<br>
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Everything went smoothly until we reached a really steep portion with uneven, or more accurately, no paving and we kind-of lost control. We were near the <i>wat</i> anyways and mother and child were fine and just walked the last few meters up the hill.<br>
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Even after the lift, she still had the gull to ask us for money. We promptly drove away.<br>
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On our way back, we stopped at <i>Phnom Sorsia</i> and had a kid guide us through some caves, including one full of bats who hilariously shit in Josh's mouth as he looked up at them.<br>
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By this point, the sun was already starting to set and we headed back to Kampot. <br>
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The incredibly dusty roads (at least what was left of them) made the drive rather treacherous and slow moving; but the children waving, villagers smiling and the golden light of the setting sun illuminating the fields and distant mountains made the hairs on my forearms stand on end.<br>
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This is why I travel.<br>
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The next day we asked Ganesha's owners where we could find the pepper plantations and actually listened to their response for a change.<br>
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After a long ride on a loose-rock and sandy trail, we managed to find several plantations. No one was around to give us a tour so we wandered aimlessly for a few minutes before buying some pepper.<br>
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On our way out, Josh was attempting to turn while taking a drag from his cigarette and wiped out, cutting his hand open. He didn't have the best of luck in Kampot!<br>
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Our next stop was a hidden lake, which actually turned out to be quite large.<br>
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After gazing at the lake and Josh washing his wound, we decided to paddle Ganesha's canoe out on the Kampot river, which joined up to Prek Kampong river.<br>
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Within seconds, it became incredibly obvious that we were terrible paddlers. Every time we attempted to go straight, we ended up veering off to the side, bringing me face to face with sharp, pointed bamboo shoots.<br>
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Our original intention was to paddle all the way to a riverside guesthouse for a cold beer, but we were such feeble canoers that we just floated there and enjoyed the tranquility of the river.<br>
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To be honest, Kampot and Kep don't really have much to offer in terms of sights, but the tranquil vibe, beautiful countryside, great food and sincere people made this one of my favorite places in Cambodia.Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-70661983855004976962013-12-16T06:33:00.000-08:002013-12-16T06:33:33.676-08:00Speechless at Angkor WatJan 22nd-24th<br />
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The Khmer Empire, reigning from 802-1432 A.D., is at the heart of every Cambodian; and Angkor, the empire's opulent capital city, remains their most impressive and enduring legacy.<br />
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Angkor Wat, still the world's largest religious building despite being built in the 12th century by Suryavaram II, holds an incredible importance and sense of pride for Cambodians.<br />
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It is featured on their flag, their currency, has a beer named after it and was even spared destruction unlike many other religious temples during the murderous reign of the ultra-communist Khmer Rouge.<br />
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In fact, Pol Pot and his fellow homicidal maniacs named their party Angkar, as a nod to this magnificent place and its incredibly powerful empire.<br />
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Because Josh and I knew so little about these temples and the Khmer Empire, we decided to hire a guide along with a tuk tuk to take us from site to site.<br />
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We were met by Amad and our driver at 5am in order to be at Angkor Wat for sunrise: a rite of passage at these temples.<br />
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The ancient city was surprisingly far from Siem Reap and the air temperature felt like it was hovering above freezing as we approached the entrance gate. <br />
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On our boat trip from Battambang to Siem Reap, I somehow lost my voice and on the ride there and for the rest of the next few days, I squeaked and squawked my words trying to ask Amad questions, much to Josh's amusement.<br />
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We bought our 3-day passes and followed Amad through the darkness to the famous Wat. <br />
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Although his English was somewhat hard to understand, he described the imagery and symbolism of Angkor and how the Wat was originally a temple devoted to the Hindu god Vishnu.<br />
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As the sun began to rear its fiery head, the true grandeur and magnificence of this holy building became apparent.<br />
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The temple symbolizes Mount Meru, a sacred mountain to the Hindu faith, and its central tower rises 31m.<br />
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To add to its already formidable size, it is surrounded by a 1.5 by 1.3km moat that is 190m in width and was dug by hand!<br />
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What was also apparent as the sun rose in the sky, was just how many people were gathered around us. I'd have to estimate at least several thousand.<br />
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As the sunrise crowd began to leave, we had breakfast and took some photos with the wat in front of the photogenic reflecting pond and its water lilies. <br />
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The only disappointment is that the German team working on the restoration decided to drape half the facade in an ugly green tarp.<br />
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But hey, what can you do?<br />
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From there we toured the interior of Angkor Wat and marveled at the details of its sculptures and reliefs.<br />
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We stopped briefly at the southern gate of Angkor Thom, the last great capital of the Khmer Empire, and made our way to one of Angkor's most magnificent temples: Bayon.<br />
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Bayon was the state temple of the Khmer king Jayavarman VII. It has over 50 towers and most strikingly, is decorated with 216 faces of Avalokiteshvara, looking over every aspect of this temple from the high perches of each tower.<br />
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The only thing more numerous than the sculpted smirking faces, was the number of Chinese, Japanese and Korean tour groups, who were oh-so-courteous and orderly around the temples.<br />
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I'm only kidding, they were their usual rude, pushy and irritatingly-loud selves.<br />
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A short walk took us to Baphoun, which was formerly in a terrible state of disrepair until an incredibly dedicated group of archeologists painstakingly rebuilt it, piece by millions of pieces.<br />
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After Baphoun, we passed a large statue of Buddha and briefly explored the Terrace of the Elephants: a beautifully sculpted viewing-stand used for public ceremonies.<br />
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Our final stop of the day was Ta Prohm, known to most tourists as the Tomb Raider temple because of its inclusion in the movie starring Angelina Jolie and her enhanced chest in the role of the beyond-busty Lara Croft.<br />
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One can easily see why this temple was used for the film because the temple was left in its discovered state, complete with moss, tree roots and vines growing on the walls for centuries, seemingly consuming the temple ever-so-slowly.<br />
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This temple was incredibly popular with tour groups, and to find an undisturbed corner of it rather difficult.<br />
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After our tour, we thanked Amad for his service and returned to our hostel, HI Siem Reap (site).<br />
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We lounged around for the rest of the day, briefly checking out Siem Reap's market and restaurant district centered on 'the alley'.<br />
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That evening we went to one of the many Pub Street restaurants offering 50-cent draft beer.<br />
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Once there, we started playing some drinking games with an Australian couple and ended up dancing on picnic tables at the aptly named bar Angkor What? Our final hazy destination was Hip Hop club before stumbling back to Hi Siem Reap.<br />
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Josh didn't feel like going to temples for 2 days in a row, so I hired a tuk tuk and went exploring by myself in the afternoon.<br />
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My first stop was Preah Khan, a temple dedicated to Buddha, Bhrama, Shiva an Vishnu.<br />
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This is one of the largest complexes at Angkor and was once possibly used as a Buddhist university. <br />
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It, like Ta Prohm, was also in a charming ruinous state, with overgrown trees and vines galore.<br />
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I then went to Preah Neak Poan, which like Bayon and Preah Khan, was built by Jayarvarman VII.<br />
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It comprises a small central temple surrounded by four small pools. The site was blocked by a gate so I didn't stay too long.<br />
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The next three temples I visited were Ta Som, East Mebon and Pre Rup.<br />
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Each of these temples were impressive and unique, but what made them particularly great was the fact that since everyone else was visiting the heavy-hitters, I was almost completely alone at these once-sacred buildings.<br />
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It was one of those special moments walking around these imposing structures, wondering what life might have been like when this city of temples was full of life.<br />
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It is said that as many as one million people lived in Angkor at the empire's peak.<br />
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My final stop of the day was Phnom Bakheng, a modest temple built on the region's highest point.<br />
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It is most famous for its sunset views over Angkor Wat but I would wait to watch that the following day with Josh.<br />
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As I walked down, hundreds of people were making the slow climb up to watch the sunset.<br />
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To avoid the crowds on my third day and Josh's second, we headed out in the afternoon, starting at Preah Khan because I enjoyed it so much.<br />
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After a brief exploration of Ta Keo, we went back to Ta Prohm (aka Tomb Raider temple) to admire it with hopefully smaller crowds, but it proved to be so popular that that was not the case.<br />
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From there we went to the surprisingly large Banteay Kdel and admired this less-visited gem, before revisiting Angkor Wat, which now not only had less visitors, but also better lighting, pleasing my ever-present photo-snobbery.<br />
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As the golden hour was upon us, we made our way to Phnom Bakheng to watch the sunset.<br />
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Much like the sunrise, the sheer amount of people there made it a little less-than-special, but who am I to wish to deny others this great experience.<br />
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After spending 3 days exploring the Khmer Empire's incredible temples and timeless monuments, it is really easy to see why Angkor makes it on the best-of lists of everything written about Cambodia and South East Asia as a whole.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMppU3pZZW15DOWzYxK3lD6D3QB-jcnAblG6jmqUmnOu-6HLL4sw8-xPMbgULPBpv94Y7lFd8iFagLXBgHh1jVek02_UeUa6V9TPPcdUiP2k5CjcoRvwSeVF9G_YuWoLKQpu4A_zgMhYA/s1600/DSC_0696.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMppU3pZZW15DOWzYxK3lD6D3QB-jcnAblG6jmqUmnOu-6HLL4sw8-xPMbgULPBpv94Y7lFd8iFagLXBgHh1jVek02_UeUa6V9TPPcdUiP2k5CjcoRvwSeVF9G_YuWoLKQpu4A_zgMhYA/s320/DSC_0696.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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With its historical significance, beautiful craftsmanship, artistry and enduring legacy on the Cambodian peoples' psyche, it will surely be on my best-of list as well.<br />
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Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-52281945992546072602013-12-10T17:18:00.000-08:002013-12-10T17:18:35.875-08:00Cambodia: All Aboard the Bamboo Train!<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpHzQzSgpHqOBCHHoh2PrEJU6B_Fp9Qqs9KkX7Dv7T4QyHGUuS6v7A0vi0tw-0uKfSHSr10RQK0KoZ277xlxXCWKgbLbioWCf8TQ5YE6hBi9XtswCtMnA-dDDOzWnyisjbIx5csL5mGTs/s1600/DSC_0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
Jan 19th-21st<br />
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Although Battambang's population is only 140,000, it is still the second largest city in Cambodia.<br />
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Revered for its French colonial architecture and incredibly laid-back atmosphere, it would be the perfect introduction to this country that we knew so little about.<br />
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On our first day, Josh and I rented a scooter and drove to Battambang's biggest tourist draw: the bamboo train.<br />
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Know locally as a <i>norri</i>, it has been used to transport goods and people through the countryside since the French colonial period.<br />
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Essentially a bamboo platform resting on 2 lightweight axles being propelled by a ferocious 6-HP engine.<br />
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What's pretty hilarious is that there is only one track, so when the <i>norris</i> are approaching each other, whoever has less cargo or passengers has to disassemble their train by removing the platform and lifting the axles off the tracks.<br />
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Once the heavier train passes, the 'conductor' then reassembles the train and continues until they approach the next oncoming train.<br />
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Not only is this a really novel way to see Cambodian rural life, but the train speeds along at almost 50km/hour!<br />
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From there we hopped on our scooter and headed to <i>Phnom Banan</i>, or Banan hill. The hill can be climbed using 358 steps and at the summit is <i>Wat Banan</i>, a Khmer temple predating <i>Angkor Wat</i> but resembling it in layout.<br />
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Despite its small size, the temple was still quite charming and provided beautiful views over the surrounding plains. <br />
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After descending the steps, we went to a small cave and were guided by a local man who also lent us some flashlights.<br />
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What was even more magical than the sites was just driving around the countryside, seeing Cambodians just going about their daily routines. It was so refreshing compared to the blatant commercialization of pretty much everything in Thailand.<br />
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On our way back, we went to see some massive fruit bats hanging from a tree and then sampled some wine at Cambodia's only vineyard.<br />
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Tasting more like sweetened grape juice than the French wine I was foolishly expecting, it was still a great way to cap off our perfect day.<br />
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That evening, while having some 50 cent beers across from our hotel, the great value-for-money Royal Hotel (www.asrhotel.com.kh), we met an Irish couple, Gary and Olivia, who would be joining us for the evening.<br />
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Our supposed low-key evening culminated with us dancing our asses off at the biggest dance club in the city.<br />
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This club was also the only place I have ever been to where the bathroom attendants massage your shoulders while you're using the urinals.<br />
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Not very pleasant.<br />
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The next day I went to <i>Phnom Sampeau</i>, which is the tallest hill in the Battambang area, and has a beautiful temple at its peak, which gives stunning panoramic views over the countryside.<br />
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After being charged at by some vicious resident monkeys baring their fangs, I went to the unfortunate killing caves of <i>Phnom Sampeau</i>.<br />
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The killing caves are one of many mass execution sites set up by the brutal Khmer Rouge regime from 1975-1979.<br />
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This particular site saw the deaths of as many as 30,000 people, all bludgeoned to death and then thrown down into the caves below.<br />
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It was a lump-in-the-throat moment as my young guide pointed out the caves where they threw all the murdered children, many of them no older than him, and some remnants of their clothing still remain.<br />
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In the main chamber of the caves, there is now a reclining Buddha and a memorial filled with bones and skulls of some of the victims.<br />
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Upon my return to Battambang, I took a stroll along the <i>Stung Sangket</i> river and visited a small temple on the east side of the river.<br />
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Rather than taking the convenient and cheap minibuses to Siem Reap, home to Angkor Wat and other Khmer Empire relics, we opted for the longer but more scenic boat ride along the Siem Reap river.<br />
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We were picked up from Royal Hotel in the early morning and driven to the ferry terminal. It was somewhat surprising to see that despite our advanced purchase of tickets supposedly reserving a seat, that the boat was already full.<br />
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One of the touts told us to get on the roof, so we did. We were soon joined by a few westerners but mostly by other Cambodians.<br />
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For most of the morning, the trip was absolutely spectacular: we were given a glimpse into the rural lives of Cambodians and watched as they fished, bathed and relied on the river for survival.<br />
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I couldn't even count the number of little children waving and yelling 'hello' to us as we floated by.<br />
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By midday, we had already passed all the beautiful riverside towns, floating villages and other places of interest; and we had also been sitting on the roof for almost 5 hours in the blazing sun, so we were more than ready to get off!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0EBt1UkyOC38A8zP5BQ0YCqjl7EYfUPQQLRimS15Raq0L7SpULtcADANarX_G76y4OJ2tRUbLAMMp9UjR7u_36vL4gzIwjqd26DiKv4oGc7VPxeW8wUPL67hlRz_3WQ-t-ntazfbQmU0/s1600/DSC_0027.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0EBt1UkyOC38A8zP5BQ0YCqjl7EYfUPQQLRimS15Raq0L7SpULtcADANarX_G76y4OJ2tRUbLAMMp9UjR7u_36vL4gzIwjqd26DiKv4oGc7VPxeW8wUPL67hlRz_3WQ-t-ntazfbQmU0/s320/DSC_0027.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Eventually, the river widened and we reached Tonle Sap lake, Southeast Asia's largest lake. What better way to enjoy its beautiful flora and fauna than for our boat to break down in the middle of it! Our boat actually broke down twice and took an excessively long time to fix each time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15jguQ2ubAtTNfk6pRU7RtvWYyJcfRU4EdrvGucmN84O012_RVMLN8XW078Hos4rk2pPdeEygYnaI8FYO7kIbARd9SK1r2Tf8MU04svniDG9-3440PGYxLVfmV8JSQBD72j9ExWVEC2g/s1600/DSC_0087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15jguQ2ubAtTNfk6pRU7RtvWYyJcfRU4EdrvGucmN84O012_RVMLN8XW078Hos4rk2pPdeEygYnaI8FYO7kIbARd9SK1r2Tf8MU04svniDG9-3440PGYxLVfmV8JSQBD72j9ExWVEC2g/s320/DSC_0087.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Once the boat was working again, we finally reached the pier after having been visited by a Cambodian woman selling soft-drinks while jumping from boat to boat with Ninja-like skills.<br />
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With dehydration starting to rear its head, we were overwhelmingly pleased to get off that boat. My Ombrelle SPF 60 and Cambodian scarf saved my skin from certain death. <br />
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The advertised 7-hour journey ended up taking 10 hours. Despite the heat, the multiple breakdowns and the lack of a proper seat, I don't regret taking that boat: the beauty and cultural wealth of Cambodian life more than made up for it.<br />
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As we took a tuk tuk into downtown Siem Reap, the the endless river-ride became a distant memory. The only thing on my mind was temples, temples and more temples!Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-11094161288655191392013-12-10T17:04:00.000-08:002013-12-10T17:04:21.180-08:00The Vagina Epilogue<div style="text-align: left;">
Jan 17th-18th</div>
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Since Josh's and my Thai Visa were about to expire, we thought it would be a good time to head to Cambodia, Thailand's neighbor to the east.<br />
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Since getting there in a day would require a very early morning wake-up call, we decided to sleep in and spend one last day in Bangkok.<br />
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Our final day was rather low-key: the most eventful moment was when we went to get a haircut.<br />
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Silom, where we stayed in Bangkok, is home to Patpong, known for its famous night market, selling everything from counterfeit DVDs to dildos.<br />
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It is also the original home to Bangkok's most unique and arguably most depraved sideshow: the Ping Pong show.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw6SgSHAjm_tF3sL5e_OxfTtrDWeJL2m4CsgQkIbU5HKv6n2yMzad0TSz8tlwR2HHSE8ogaPVckZ2LZpAnNa8FCj-gC8H666EDNBJTGy4Vibu-h3MEqlm6qso1JRFao1G4PcXCRTxEXvE/s1600/02patpong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw6SgSHAjm_tF3sL5e_OxfTtrDWeJL2m4CsgQkIbU5HKv6n2yMzad0TSz8tlwR2HHSE8ogaPVckZ2LZpAnNa8FCj-gC8H666EDNBJTGy4Vibu-h3MEqlm6qso1JRFao1G4PcXCRTxEXvE/s320/02patpong.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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(Photo Credit: www.bridgeandtunnelclub.com)<br />
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Josh and I had been to Bangkok on 3 separate occasions and never succumbed to the temptation or curiosity to watch this genital circus.<br />
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After too many beers, we had decided that we weren't willing to face the criticism of our guy friends for being in Bangkok for so long and never going to see a ping pong show.<br />
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It was now or never. We chose now.<br />
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Later that night, Josh chatted with a tout to establish if his offer was legit or a well-executed scam. He told us a reasonable price but said it was free to look.<br />
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We walked up the stairs and were relieved to see 15-or-so people, some of them white women, sitting around the bar, making us feel less like sleaze balls.<br />
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Although we only stayed for 30-45 minutes of vag-ymnastics, we still saw the ladies do seemingly impossible feats like pulling an endless string of garland out of her, reminiscent of a magician pulling handkerchiefs out of someone's ear; and shooting a dart out of a blow-gun, hitting a balloon across the room with pinpoint accuracy. <br />
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At one point, she lubed up 5-6 ping pong balls, inserted them, and then shot them at Josh who had been given a paddle. It will come as no surprise that he deliberately and instinctively deflected them to hit me.<br />
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We also got into a bidding war with 2 Irish girls as to who would tip the most to avoid being sprayed by a vagina-opened 'capped' bottle of soda water.<br />
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Josh and I couldn't keep up with the wager and could no longer afford to not get sprayed: we would be needing that money to pay for our laundry after!<br />
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The final trick we stayed for was when one of the ladies inserted a sharpie pen, knelt down, and wrote Josh the message: <i>Welcome to Bangkok 2013,</i> after a night of generous tipping. He even tipped more to take a picture of her holding the sign. Sadly this picture has been lost. It is extremely pathetic when a woman is able to have better penmanship with her genitals than two grown men combined!<br />
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After having experienced a ping pong show firsthand, I can honestly say that while very bizarre, it was still pretty entertaining and quite impressive.<br />
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I also hope that the laughing, smiles and joking around by the women on stage was genuine and that they weren't being forced or drugged into this unique Bangkok profession.<br />
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Now, after almost 2 months, it was already time to leave Thailand. <br />
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Josh and I caught an early morning train to Aranya Prathet, a city bordering Cambodia. <br />
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Of course, to enhance our already uncomfortable journey, a smelly homeless man sat across from us for most of the ride. He wouldn't stop yelling, laughing and continually dropping papers on the ground until he was finally kicked off the train by some railway officers.<br />
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Once in Aranya Prathet, despite attempts to get us to buy Visas at third party operators, we instead walked through customs and bought them at the border. <br />
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Another short walk brought us to Poipet, Cambodia's border town, with its shady casinos and mafia-run transportation system.<br />
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We had to wait around an hour to catch a bus headed to our first stop, Battambang; Cambodia's second city.<br />
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Although directly attached to Thailand, Cambodia looked like another world with its half-finished roads, huge dust clouds and noticeably destitute countryside. After a 4-hour bus-ride, we finally arrived in Battambang, feeling a million miles away from our metropolitan starting point of Bangkok, just a mere 11 hours away by slow public transport.<br />
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Thailand had been a world apart from China: with it's refreshingly heterogeneous population, English proficiency, extremely well-developed foreign tourist industry and its jaw-dropping beaches.<br />
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What it lacked in culture was more than made up for with parties, good friends and some sublime R&R.<br />
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To be honest, I don't think I would have liked Thailand as much if it weren't for the visits of Bryan, Rich and especially the magical one-month foray with Amina!Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406711634106814681.post-2177746161578868382013-12-01T16:56:00.000-08:002013-12-01T16:56:07.743-08:00The Hardest GoodbyeJan 15th-16th<br />
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After contemplating the logistics on getting back to Bangkok for Amina's departure; we decided to take an AirAsia flight from Krabi to maximize our time.<br />
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Once back in Bangkok, we headed to Sunflower Place in Silom. Rather than the elation usually associated with being in this city, there was a sombre mood since these were Amina's last days with me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTLyzt4-ztVRzn1z69GUCI7uAU0cSgmr9j3MiLiYeA2bhopKRZoMkJ-SX5wjRxj6lbAoxvUtzXnybEGp81wPRiZImbAnQKBfpx4x2XNxRx7p2dTOfRKk0_6fHAcrckiUWU5vfkjCh-P0/s1600/38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTLyzt4-ztVRzn1z69GUCI7uAU0cSgmr9j3MiLiYeA2bhopKRZoMkJ-SX5wjRxj6lbAoxvUtzXnybEGp81wPRiZImbAnQKBfpx4x2XNxRx7p2dTOfRKk0_6fHAcrckiUWU5vfkjCh-P0/s320/38.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
(Photo Credit: Amina Qureshi)</div>
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Josh, who had been in Bangkok for a few days since Yemina's departure, met up with us for dinner and one last night on Khao San road.<br />
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(Photo Credit: Amina Qureshi) </div>
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All the usual suspects were there: Kumar and company, the disgruntled flower girl, the shisha, the buckets, and the thousands of tourists.<br />
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(Photo Credit: Amina Qureshi)</div>
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It was hard to believe that it had been almost 2 months since I had first stepped foot into this city after having left China.<br />
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(Photo Credit: Amina Qureshi)</div>
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Time flies.<br />
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The following day we went back to MBK centre to have lunch at their glorious food court, but even that didn't taste as good as the last time.<br />
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The dreaded day went by in the blink of an eye and it was already time for Amina to catch her flight.<br />
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(Photo Credit: Amina Qureshi) </div>
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We took the skytrain and airport express to reach Suvarnabhumi International airport. <br />
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It was an unbelievably hard goodbye to put it lightly, both of us unsure of when we'll be able to see each other again.<br />
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(Photo Credit: Amina Qureshi)</div>
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Goodbye Sweetie.<br />
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Jamichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090117186238244222noreply@blogger.com0