The first few days in Laos!

So I've dragged myself to the internet cafe in the hope that i could piece together some bad travel writing. The mosquitoes here are great. Beautiful little creatures really. I particularly love the sound they make as they enter your ear looking for a vascular delight. Maybe humans and nature can coexist though I should probably take those malaria pills to save myself from the ol' death thing.

Vietnam, to be honest, and I hope I cause no umbrage to my numerous Vietnamese friends, does not compare to this beautiful place. The people are friendly, they don't try to rip you off and the lifestyle is generally peaceful and relaxed. Crossing the border into Laos was a farce however, as for some reason the beguiling border patrol officers seem to find numerous ways into your pocket. I ended up having to pay for a fucking stamp on my passport when i had already payed the 30 dollar visa fee. I suppose ink is in short supply for those amiable gentlemen.

Upon arrival to Muang Khua i decided that Laos was the best place I have visited yet. Jagged peaks etched across the skyline, flanked with exotic greenery including trees precariously perched in the most impossibly high places. Verdant rivers lazily winding their way through whatever passage time has made for them. Do these descriptions sound pretentious? Sue me, you square.
After having a good night's rest in the quaint village, i noticed a little internet cafe. Ahhh, the good old internet fix. Little did i know that on that very same computer, at that very same time, a little game called Warcraft was installed.

Now Warcraft is one of those computer games you just should not start. Kind of like crack cocaine or Heroin, just say no. However i'm a compulsive chap for video games having spent approximately 97.854% of my teenage years squandered on them, I had a bit of a moment. The ultimatum: Double click the icon and spend 6 weeks in Muang Khua... or... go backpacking and live life.

Turns out i was feeling rather audacious and played a glorious hour of swords, magic, orcs, night elves and ever dwindling virtual resources. 1 hour only. I have finally become a man. That was my test of fate.

Till next time

mwaa

NYE

Been a long time since my last entry. I think it was way back in Sihanoukville where i spent most of my time avoiding hookers and taxi drivers peddling drugs. Seriously, going out of the hostel you were invariably hassled by these good folk. I remember one day going in and out of my hostel a number of times and every single exit/re-entry i passed this one taxi driver, He would say the same thing: "hey friend, tuk tuk....? no? marijuana? no? weed? opium? mdma? ice? cocain? heroin?". At one point i reminded him how many times he had asked the same thing to which he apologised profusely. An hour later when I passed him, "hey friend, marijuana, ecstacy? you like ....". If I swore I'm sure god will someday forgive me.

The reason i have made time now is because i am again ill with a common flu. Hanoi is bloody cold so on NYE/NYD i made the perhaps silly decision to wear only a T-shirt (...and jeans, but no shoes of course). Had a god damn amazing night though, one of the more memorable NYE's of the past couple of years.


I should mention that I have been travelling with the lascivious Geoffrey of France, a stripper and porn actor. Seems like a perfect travelling match really, we are just as silly as each other in the pursuit of women and fun times.

We set out to one of the backpacker bars. The place we stayed at had about 200 hundred males to 3 females. Now if everyone had a good vibe there it might be different but these guys were big muscle built stand-offish type gents.

Without going into too much detail, we bar hopped a little bit until we eventually ended back at our hostel where there were 400 people squished inside the bar area. fun times. At some stage we were lead to a new venue which entailed us running across freeways, scaling walls, the whole lot. It was quite a sight, a hundred backpackers swarming over walls, holding up traffic and causing a general ruckus. After a while we found ourselves in backstreet alleys when suddenly our leader pronounced he knew not where we were headed. Great bloke. We ended up counting down the new years on a street corner. It was actually a unique and amazing experience. I've spent a ton of new years at festivals off my head, at clubs or watching fireworks, never had i experienced something akin to this. Everyone was bloody ecstatic and not a single fuck was given by the fact that we were in the middle of nowhere. The human spirit prevails! Hugs, kisses, congratulations, well wishes between people who knew very little of each other but that we are all on this journey called life together and we may as well have a fucking blast!

All this thinking has got me thinking about beer and the subsequent lack of thinking that follows thereafter. Shit, how am i going to get back to study?

no photos in this entry because of constant blogger errors.

love ya

nene

The incredible Angkor region and Sihanoukville

The Angkor ruins
I had the most amazing day. Never have i seen such unbridled beauty in my life.

I've been pondering for a while now how to describe today  eloquently but can't seem to put it in writing. so fuck it - this was the most spectacular scenery i have ever witnessed in my life. Out there enough for ya?


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I started this journal probably a week ago but couldn't finish it. There is little motivation to write at the moment since i am sick and injured though i have this voice in my head telling me to "please eat some rocks and harden the fuck up".

I am currently sitting in an internet cafe right next to where i'm staying. The place is pretty good, social, fun, decent food. A bit pricey though. On first arriving in Sihanoukville i had a pretty big night which resulted in a fucked up knee and a cold. perfect. I missed a full moon boat cruise because of my ailments. Is God telling me to quit booze or merely shitting on me for laughs?

I suppose i'm pretty well off really. I mean, i do have all appendages that a male human being should possess, i haven't lost a leg and an arm to land mines, i do have money to travel and consume good food and booze. There are so many poor people here and others who work 7 days a week. I can't comprehend how people can enjoy life if it is all consumed by work. Mental. But what other option do they have?

Sihanoukville is pretty touristy though i don't mind that. I can't imagine being ill in a decrepit town sleeping in a shack precariously held up by rotten posts above a horrible polluted marsh, (as  have witnessed on bus trips around Cambodia) getting annihilated by mosquitoes whilst not being able to understand a word the locals say. Maybe i'm a pansy traveller because i like my comforts. Think that all you want. I simply do not give one single fuck though. Before i had ever travelled i marvelled at those who could go to the toughest places and have a ball there as i would see on the occasional travel documentaries. After some experience going to different places around the globe i can assuredly say that difficult travel sucks in the long run. week stints here and there add a huge amount of spice to the overall experience though 3 and a half months of living in poverty would not be nice. I know of people who happily spend their holidays working in orphanages, eating rice 3 times a day and shitting in buckets. I admire these people immensely.

Not for me though, not for me. This is more my style.





I haven't done much here but read and embrace my sickness. I don't feel very social at the moment as you can probably tell. I've barely even ventured outside of my backpackers. So much for seeing the sights. Still, when i do coalesce the world shall marvel at the ardent nature in which I tackle all the sights and activities in this beautiful Sihanoukville. There, some positivity.

until next time

nene

Cambodia

It's been a while since i last entered anything. I've been keeping up audio entries on my iphone though i find that these tend to sound all over the place as i try to recount what had happened over the days prior. Alcohol does not help your memory, either. I feel as if i think much more deeply on my experiences as i try to filter them into presentable writing here and that entrenches the memories in the ol' psyche.

The place i'm in right now is architecturally heavily European-French influenced. Dark polished wood doors and windowsills, with half the wall likewise coated with dark wooden panels whilst the middle and upper margins being plaster painted over with a light cream colour and upon which Khmer art hangs. Elegance that is distinctly un-australian. Nice yet peculiar in such a place. Walking outside the backpackers presents a vastly different space. Muddy dirt roads riddled with potholes and puddles after the rain, or dusty in dry times. The houses that row the street tend to be shadowed in lush greenery though are obviously run down and poor. Other parts of the city are dominated by European architecture though in the area i'm staying in, apart from the residence I reside at now, the streets tend to look the same as detailed above. I nearly lost myself earlier today coming back to the backpackers from lunch. Still, i don't tend to pay any attention to where i wander so i suppose it is no one's fault but my own when that happens.

The bus here was long though relatively restful as i slept most of the way. It's intriguing, i do very little in terms of physical exercise save the occasional set of pushups yet i feel far more tired. I've been sleeping a minimum of 10 hrs per night and sometimes even a 1 or 2 hour siesta finds its way into my day.


This place feels a lot more open than in Bangkok and much the nicer for it. It has a country town feel even though it is an important city in Cambodia with a population of 750 thousand people. Most of the locals have been able to communicate in English very well which i was surprised by. I exchanged my Thai money for combodian Riels, only to find out that 90% of the currency in use is in the form of the US dollar. Their official currency is used as change since they do not use US coins. I suppose on the bright side i did get to hold 1.2 million Riels in my hand and was heavily tempted to do the money rain dance in my dormitory. I felt like a gangster making mad cashmoney, handling huge wads of cash like mere trifles to my prodigious wealth.

I told myself to keep these writings short so to not intimidate myself every time i think of entering something. That plan i shall stick to. This is where i plan to go tonight


peace

Thailand 

Didn't even realise what i was off to do. I suppose it's just starting to sink in now; I'm in an entirely different place. The flight was relatively uneventful. I always feel before boarding when I'm checking myself in that a colossal error has been made like I've got the completely wrong day and my flight actually departed yesterday at 12, or it departed today at 9, or something horrible.

I do have some reason to think this way. On my way home from South America i missed my connecting flight. Why? I thought 15:00 was 5pm. During that time i went on a bus ride around Miami and acted like a real Steve Irwin telling people with authority that no, that fish in the water was not actually a crocodile but a normal fish. Is it bad that i play up the Australian accent and abuse the stereotype that we're wild jungle men?

Anyway, chilling at the moment in the backpackers sinking a Singha. The hostel people are playing obnoxious “western club music”. Think apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur T-pain styles. So far I've been wandering round the city like a lost child looking for someone to play with. I kept feeling like i was in dragon ball Z. The architecture reminds me of the old dbz cartoon days. Have not seen goku yet though might check the local Muay Thai Gym.

What i have seen a lot of is meat head roid ragers. Everywhere. I wonder if their endeavour for oversized biceps is to reach a complete feeling of self trust and confidence. What if the more you try to build your confidence in that manner you end up completely missing the point and further away from a true feeling of self belief and rather develop an absurd view that goes something like this: Skinny – you're a pussy. Huge – you're a man.

Thing is, i've seen 50kg nerds with more calm and self belief than half of the roid ragers I've encountered. Aggression does not equal manliness. To me it screams self doubt.

Saying all that people who know me know that i go to the gym and have even bought myself a power rack that takes up half of my room. Maybe the above is one big freudian slip or i'm jealous that they're twice the size of me. bastards.

27th September: Bolivia, la paz, the dark vortex of a city

Just chilling in a little Almuerzo joint - set meal restaurant. The waiter just asked me what i wanted for second course in rapid spanish. when he saw the blank look on my face and felt the 15s silence he chose one for me. good bloke. It's cheap here for a meal. 14 bs which is around 2 australian for a couple of courses and good service. Bolivia's good like that.

I've been feeling a bit under the weather recently and a tad homesick. i'll be glad to get out of La Paz. I want to be with nature, I feel like a bit of solitude.

Yesterday we visited the prison, the infamous San Pedro correctional facility made famous by an english inmate with his book 'Marching Powder'.  Anything is possible in this prison. They have a whole new world in there. You have to BUY your prison cell, there are poor and rich sections to the prison. Cocaine is made INSIDE the prison. Tourists are allowed to go in, wives are allowed to go in and fuck their husbands. inmates regularly call prostitutes to fuck after they've fucked their wives... and they're allowed in also. Children live inside aswell - where else do they have to go? Every copper is probably corrupt. Crazy in there

We were met at Burger King on the Prado, a nice little plaza, by one of the wives of the inmates. I really liked her, it was such a short interaction though i felt we were both really relaxed and were able to have a great little conversation. Ney ney's falling for incarcerated cocaine dealers' wives. awesome.
We arrived at the prison and before going in scoped out any possible journalists snapping shots or taking footage of obvious tourists entering the prison. 
We were searched for weapons or drugs and then shown to the cell we would have our main conversation with the inmates with
His name was 'jan' or something, a south african man. He had a skinny, carved out face probably due to the copious amounts of cocaine he had self admittedly taken. He estimated over the 1 and a half years he had been there he had snorted over half a kilogram though he had probably smoked a lot more in the form of base. supposedly you can smoke up to 25 grams of base a day, whereas with refined coke 2 grams would be heaps.

Had a bit of a break from writing there and searched around for a decent net cafe with a fast connection no luck. ended up at one joint waiting for entourage to load whilst playing diablo 2 and GTA san andreas. Reminds me of back in the day chopping heads on the good ol' PS2
Got 10m in after 45m loading and decided to give up.
anyway back to the prison tour

Thedude had been in the army back in South Africa, he'd kill 12yr old militant African boys. He told us it takes 4 years to get past the mental scarring anof army life and brutal murder. Another man mentioned in 'Marchy Powder' Came in to chat as well. He was caught for some rediculous amount of coke, supposedly 4 tonnes or the like. You could tell this man thought he was the biggest legend going around. He talked about the way he handed himself in to save others who were suspected of involvement. Bullshit. I bet he was caught outright and made that story up to impress others and elevate his 'celebrity' status. That aside, he was entertaining. Jan seemed a bit on edge and his pupils seemed dilated, maybe he had done a line before hand to let the conversation flow and be a good host however it seemed it wasn't doing him any favours because the conversation at times seemed to lul and awkwardness ensued. His plans after leaving prison in 6 years time is to go straight back to drug  smuggling which he was locked up for. Smart dude, rehabilitated fo sure. Prisons work everyone.

I'm definitely glad i went. We were shown around and i felt a connection to how many if not all the prisoners might feel. They have accepted their situation and live life on a day to day basis. In fact, some addicts prefer life in prison. They can do as much cocaine as they like without fear of getting in trouble, and because it is manufactured right there in the prison, they are never short of the best product available.

Bolivia, what a ride

Uyuni was a bit of a tourist town, more expensive than i expected for a small town in Bolivia.
On arrival we thanked our driver who had driven us through the Andes and into Bolivia. he seemed like such an easy going fun loving person. that is generally the impression i get of Bolivians. just put a smile on and enjoy yourself. However there are those who think every white person is a dirty American and give you a big greasy. I find that interesting since they are surrounded by American media to an extent you would think not possible due to the language barrier. Their idea of true love and all that romantic shit is blown out of all proportion. but maybe they had that idea of love and happily ever after before any American influence and now it just seems to have a US twist.

The bus ride from Uyuni to La Paz was a bit of a nightmare. after two hours of the most extreme jolty bumpy ride imaginable you´d think it would stop and we´d get on to smooth bitumen. No, this is Bolivia and the entire trip consisted of me getting air off my seat after every bump and landing on the armrest or something.
Zac had some obnoxious twit sitting next to him the entire ride. he spread his little legs out as far as possible, a smug look on his face  (even when he was sleeping). Supposedly they had a constant foot- leg space war. i was next to the window so that´s probably why i was able to drift off. The little man was a peculiar match for zac the bearding wild man.

When we arrived to La Paz we sat in the bus for 45m thinking we were moving due to some reason i now cannot remember. we were eventually confronted by the driver who gave us this weird as fuck look proceeded by him kicking us off the bus. fair nuff.

we walked out of the terminal in a daze - 7 am in the morning, hugely interrupted sleep thinking we were going to be abducted by dodgey taxi drivers. it only costs 10 bolivianos ($1.50 AU) to go anywhere in the city though you have to let the cab driver know that you´re on to it. not bad ey considering in melbs you´d get charge minimum 10-15 for relatively short trips.

Our first hostel was pretty average. When we checked out two days later they tried to charge us the fee of our entire dorm. people think you´re so fuckn dumb.  you really need to look after your money here- these people are poor and if they see there´s money to be made they´ll take the opportunity. Hey, i´d do the same.

I was handed a fake 100 Bs note (around $15 AU) and didn´t realise until the taxi driver we were buying something from gave it back to me repeating the word ´falso´. the club i went to the other night had these two seedy barmaids. you would give them 100bs and they would give you 10bs back when all you asked for was a bottle of water (10bs). what the fuck, where´s my 90 change? the first time i said something and she showed me the apparent 20 note i gave her. ( she took some random 20bs note out of the cashier). now the 20 looks similar to the 100 when you´re pissed and there´s not much light in that club, so the first time i thought i was wrong and let it go. the second time however, i checked that shit 3 times to see if it was truly 100 bs. she pulled her dirty fuckn trick on my again. her little routine failed, i´m pretty awesome you know. she showed me the ´original´ 20 that i supposedly gave her. she couldn´t handle my threateningly james bond grill stare. she kept telling me it was a 20 i gave her over and over. 

me: i´m not leaving until you give my fucking note back hoe bitch slut fatty.
her: estoy en serio amigo!!
me: FUCK UP GIVE ME MY MONEY.
her: que?!?!?
me: (just look at her for 2 minutes, not letting anyone else order drinks)

Finally she realises resistance is futile.  What followed is me telling everyone how cool i was for not getting scammed by the barmaid. yeah man, that was quite admirable of you wasn´t it.

we rode down the self proclaimed ´world´s most dangerous road´ the other day on these dodgy bikes. should have got the full bike suspension. Half the time i have a budget mindset and the other half i´m a hedonistic roman orgy goer. it balances out ok, but only the bank statement will tell. [it did tell, i blew 2000 in 1 month in bolivia which is fucking rediculous seeing as everything is so cheap]

the bar at the wild rover hostel is awesome - hangover food and dope beers. A pilsener will fill nearly two schooners and cost you about 2 dollars. I haven´t tried the cocaine here but have been told it´s very average - serves them right for trying it, them devils. in fact one guy who took some said he was seeing devils, supposedly they mix it with crystal meth but i don´t see how that´s cost effective because meth is expensive. Well, they mix it with something, I didn´t know coke made you see demons.

We´re going to the San Pedro prison, the correctional facility the book ´Marching Powder´ made mildly famous, or infamous depending on who you ask. I recommend reading it. I´ve been emailing José, an inmate at the prison. definitely keen on meeting him. will report back on that.

all we´ve done here apart from the death road tour is drink, go out and drink more and finally drink a little bit more when we get back and then try to get to sleep. The day after a night out consists of me being depressed, a nature characterised by nihilistic angst. Some would call it a luxurious thought but I would add ´a fucking nightmare´ additionally.

I will discontinue my writing at this point due to 2 amazingly beautiful Swedish girls arriving in my room and being awfully distracting.  peace!

the next post will be from the 27th of September.