Day 13 - Siem and Reap
24. Juni 2024 in Kambodscha ⋅ ☁️ 26 °C
16:00
We’re up and out in decent time this morning. We’re in a tuk-tuk by 10:15 to take us to meet our bus, which leaves at 11:00. Bus is the same set-up as our bus from Poi Pet down to Battambang. You know - comfortable, air-conditioned, driven by a lunatic. An hour into the journey, it starts to poon it down - properly torrential rain. The driver at least slows down a little as a result. I spend most of the journey booking us some travel and hotels for the rest of our trip. We’re pretty much sorted now, with a good idea of where we’re going, where we’ll stay and what we’ll do. What feels like a quick 3 hours later, we arrive into Siem Reap, which is markedly bigger and more modern than Battambang. We both comment that it feels like what it is - a well worn stop on the tourist trail. Very excited to see the Angkor Wat complex, but not convinced I’m going to love the city of Siem Reap itself.
We jump in a tuk-tuk to our hotel. As we disembark, I hand the driver a $10 bill for a $3 ride. He doesn’t have enough change for me. I pop into the hotel, and ask if they can help. They cannot. I’m more than a little concerned that I have some larger bills ($50, $100) to try and get through while we’re here. I think it’s highly unlikely we’ll have a restaurant bill approaching $100. May have to pop into a bank, and see if they can break them down for me.
We check into our hotel, and are shown to the Honeymoon suites. They’re super-luxe, and costing us a tickle over £20 per night. We’ll head out around 18:00 for an early dinner, as we’ve a crazy early start tomorrow to catch the temple at sunrise. Our guide is picking us up at 04:15. Aye carumba.
21:00
Code brown! Code brown! Felix has succumbed to an upset stomach. Bizarrely, we were discussing just earlier today how well both of our constitutions had been coping on our trip thus far, and I told him that if he made it through an entire month in this part of the world without the brown rain, then he’d have done incredibly well. Only hours later…
As a result, I head out on my own, walking down to the riverside neighbourhood. It’s hot and sticky, and there aren’t really any pavements to speak of. I’m brushed by several moped riders during the 20 minute walk, and I arrive dripping with sweat. It’s a very pretty little neighbourhood though, and I count myself lucky to find a craft beer bar called Embargo overlooking the canal. It’s run/owned by a Hawaiian guy called Jared. All of the beers are brewed in Cambodia or Vietnam. I try an IPA made in Siem Reap, and am very impressed. Properly bitter, a little bit of funk, and a healthy 6.2% ABV. It’s also, at $6, comfortably the most expensive drink I’ve had since arriving into Chiang Mai two weeks ago. I ask Jared if he can break a $100 bill for me. He says he’ll try… I end up with about $40 and about 200,000 Riels in change. This seems like a reasonable trade.
Opposite me on the other side of the river, I can see nightlife waking up. I take a brief stroll through the market area, past some street food stalls, and via ‘Pub Street’ which does pretty much what it says on the tin. Flashing neon, drinks promotions, folks on the street flyering for their bars. It strikes me as a cross between Saigon and San Antonio. Moving on fairly swiftly, I find one of the restaurants I’ve tagged to visit. Along with an ice cold beer, I have some fresh summer rolls, and a beef Lok Lak. Both are delicious. I have another beer, and eavesdrop on what I’m pretty sure is a substantial heroin deal happening at a table near me. I could happily bar hop my way back to the hotel, but time is getting on, and I’m mindful of the early start tomorrow. I jump in a tuk-tuk, and hightail it back to Indochine. Felix is not much improved. I’m doubtful he’ll be in a fit state for our sunrise tour tomorrow. Happily, we’re here for a couple of days, so there’s time to catch up.Weiterlesen
Day 12 - Like a Batt out of Bang
23. Juni 2024 in Hong Kong ⋅ ⛅ 29 °C
13:30
I sleep well, waking naturally a little before 09:00. Nothing planned until Kim picks us up for our afternoon tuk-tuk tour at 14:00, so I have a lazy morning reading, mooching, writing. The sky is brooding and threatening rain.
A little before 12:00, I head out in search of sustenance. Felix is chilling by the pool. I wander fairly aimlessly. I’ve a few places in mind to try over the river in the town centre. It’s raining, and the air feels heavy. It’s Sunday, and quite a few places are closed. Some are open later, but it looks like daytime Sunday is downtime/family time. I end up back at Jaan Bai, where we ate last night. I want to try a Nom Bang, a baguette sandwich that shares quite a bit of heritage with the Vietnamese Banh Mi that I love so much. It’s incredible. Shredded BBQ pork with pickled, shredded papaya and carrot, some cucumber batons, and a slightly spicy sauce that I think is along the lines of a Sriracha and Kewpie combo.
I’m starting to form my opinion of Cambodia in general, and Cambodian people specifically. What’s been described to me as the more basic pace of life here, I’ve interpreted as simpler. I love it. The town of Battambang itself feels like the speed setting has been turned down several notches. There’s a natural lethargy, which I mean as an entirely positive thing. Everywhere I look, there are people gradually going about their business - pacing themselves. Even the traffic moves slower than in Thailand. I find it incredibly easy to spend time here.
Everyone we’ve come across so far (admittedly, only around 24 hours) has been lovely. Super friendly, super helpful, super smiley. There's a welcoming openness, and a sense of joy in the eyes. It feels like an incredibly happy place.
21:00
We’ve had a great afternoon. Our guide, Kim, picks us up in his tuk-tuk at 14:00, and we head off at pace. We stop at a huge statue, denoting the man after whom Battambang was named. His story is long and distinguished, as is his magic black stick (stop tittering at the back). The long and the short of it is that he used his magic black stick to stir some rice he was cooking for Cambodian soldiers. The magic black stick turned the rice black. Our hero ate it all, also turned black, and was turned into a superhero. As origin stories go, it’s pretty damn cool.
From here, we head into the countryside to the bamboo train. Neither of us has a clue what to expect. It transpires we’re to be transported on a thin, bamboo platform, which rests on some metal train wheels. It’s not connected in any other way. A two stroke engine is then strapped to the back of the bamboo platform, and a belt-driven motor attached to the rear train wheels. If this sounds like something pre-industrial, you’d be correct. Felix and I sit at the front while our ‘pilot’ mans the engine. We think she’s around 13/14 years old. Setting off, we accelerate fairly quickly to around 25mph. It feels a LOT faster, as we’re very low to the ground, and we can feel every bump and shake intimately. At one point, we have to stop to let another bamboo train pass us. None of this detracts from the serenity of the rural Cambodian countryside. We pass by rice paddies, cattle grazing fields, arable farmers working the soil. There’s really nothing of note to see as far as the horizon.
Around 5 miles up the track, we stop again, this time next to some little stores selling cold drinks, nick-nacks and the like. The shops are manned by some very cute and very persistent kids - maybe ranging in age from 4-8. We must wait here until the ‘big train’ passes, which is a passenger train that runs from Bangkok through to Phnom Penh. We’re told this will be maybe 10 minutes, but it proves to be more like 30. We pass the time playing with the kids, who are great fun. They give up trying to sell us stuff after 10 fruitless minutes, and are content instead just to hang out. When the big train arrives, it is both big and small. Standing 3m from a train track whenever any train goes past is a bit of a thing. That said, this is actually a 2 carriage commuter style train, so is gone in the blink of an eye.
Kim then takes us on a meander through the countryside surrounding Battambang - we pop into a mushroom farm, and find some wild Makrut lime, we cross a fairly rickety suspension bridge, we visit a farm that makes rice wine, we stop at a roadside BBQ stall where we are offered rat.
Our last port of call is Phnom Sampov. I’ve been looking forward to this. It’s a series of caves in which live something approaching 16 million bats. At dusk, these nocturnal creatures leave the cave in search of food. They leave - all at once. There’s a mass exodus that lasts for upwards of an hour. Kim takes us to a farm that is devoid of other tourists. He reckons it’ll be about 15 minutes until the show begins. He who spends the intermittent time sharing stories of his youth, and of Cambodian/Khmer history. He was born in a refugee camp in 1982, and lived there until he was 12. His parents would both have been considered intellectuals, and thus subject to the Khmer Rouge killing fields. They ran away as fast as they possibly could. He tells us of family members who were not so fortunate. Even today, he says there are elements of the Khmer Rouge still at work in Cambodia. It’s a heartbreaking tale.
He breaks off from a lesson on the impact of Cambodia’s support of Vietnam during the Vietnam war as he can hear the bats starting to move. What follows is staggering. It starts as a trickle - 10 bats here, another 20 bats there. The numbers build and build until there is a constant torrent. What’s beguiling is that viewed as a whole, there’s a uniformity to the crowd. View any single bat though, there’s an individuality, there’s chaos. I take some photos, some videos, but most of all - I watch. This is a natural wonder, and I find it more impressive, more engaging than any man made edifice. At one point, I close my eyes, and tell myself I can hear, or maybe even that I can *feel* a sort of low, humming vibration from the sheer volume of bats flapping their wings. Felix and I are both speechless. Just a brilliant, brilliant experience.
Kim drops us at Pomme in the centre of the old town centre. He’s been a brilliant companion for the afternoon. We’re both properly hungry. Felix has a Lok Lak - a hybrid curry/stir-fry of beef. Super tasty. I have another Amok, which is similar to the one I had last night, but has some notable differences. They’ve certainly used a different fish, and they’ve used some very young lemongrass as a vegetable. Lovely stuff.
We head back to our hotel. The weather’s largely behaved itself today. It’s spitting with rain, but barely umbrella worthy. We make plans to meet in the morning, ahead of our trip up to Siem Reap. Onwards!Weiterlesen
Day 11 - Go, go - Cambodia!
22. Juni 2024 in Kambodscha ⋅ 🌧 26 °C
17:00
I wake up at 05:45, fully an hour ahead of my alarm. I think because I know I’ve got to be up early today, I can’t get back to sleep. I make a coffee, and start packing, which takes me approximately 7 minutes. I realise Vicki’s probably still up, and she is! I think it’s the first time on this trip that I’ve caught the end of her day, whilst mine is just beginning.
07:45 comes around, and I head to reception. I’m very happy (and slightly stunned) to see that Mr Lift Man is already waiting for me in the lobby. Now all we need is a Felix. He emerges just a couple of minutes late, which I’ll allow. Our new best friend sets off for Prachin Buri, about 15km down the road, at quite a clip. About halfway there, he hands over a small pot, which rather reminds me of a jar of poppers. He encourages us to open it, and we’re just stupid enough to do so. It transpires to be some decongestant in pad form, smelling of Olbas oil, and maybe a touch of Tiger balm. Quite pleasant really. At the station, we buy two tickets. Now - the journey to the border is about 2.5 hours, and 120 miles. Our fares are 28 Baht each, so maybe 75p. Bargain. The platform is pretty busy, but we’re hoping that the train will gradually empty out as we get towards the border.
Onboard, it’s also pretty crowded. There’s no A/C, but the windows are open, bringing a lovely, natural feel to our cooling. There are some ceiling fans as well, but we’re apparently in the wrong seats for those to be effective. Countless hawkers march up and down the train offering their food and drinks wares, which range from the pretty bog-standard (cans of soft drinks, water) via the strange (weird sticks of ‘meat’, bags of fish) to the utterly unidentifiable. The heat’s just about bearable, and watching the world go by is a wonderfully distracting pastime.
We arrive into Ban Kong Luk a couple of minutes late, around 11:20. We need to get over the border to pick up a bus to take us to Battambang. There’s a bus at 12:30, and one at 14:30. We’ll aim for the 12:30, but we’re not gonna break our necks to get there. We’re quickly through the Thai border control, and into no man’s land between the two countries. We join the queue in the immigration office for Cambodia. As we reach the front, a fairly officious little prick asks to see our passports. He points out that we do not have an immigration card. We were unaware there was even such a thing. We have printed copies of our visas, but no - these will not suffice. We scoot to one side, quickly complete our forms, and are directed by the forms dude to go back to the front of the queue. Our officious little prick objects, and sends us to the back of the now several times the size queue. Still, at least the air is conditioned. The queue moves glacially, and the 12:30 bus is looking a touch tight…
Out on the Cambodia side, we set off at a march to the bus company’s office. We arrive, and are told we’re JUST in time. I v v quickly nip to the bathroom, and pay for our tickets. The US Dollar is the primary street currency in Cambodia, so we’ve brought some cash with us. I’ve also got a little leftover from my trip to the US in May. When I hand these over, I’m told they’re not ‘new’ enough. Apparently, anything but the newest and crispest bills will not do. This little snafu negotiated, we board the bus. It looks pretty comfy. This company is likely to be our chariot for most of the next couple of weeks, so it’s heartening to see that we’ll be comfortable for the journeys we need to make. None are as long as the train ride from Chiang Mai down to Ayutthaya, but there’s a couple of 4-5 hour trips in there.
I’ve not been quite sure what to expect from Cambodia. Reviews have varied. The most recent of these, from Vicki Rish is that it shares a lot of DNA with Thailand - but will feel more basic, more raw, certainly poorer, and with less well developed infrastructure. Gazing out of the window, this tracks with what I’m seeing. The buildings are a little more dilapidated, the roads are less smooth, the cars and mopeds are a little older and in more of a state of disrepair. Even the greenery looks a little duller - though this may have more to do with the deep grey clouds gathering at the horizon, that promise squally showers later this evening.
The bus arrives on time into Battambang, and we grab a tuk-tuk to our hotel, the other side of the river. Felix heads out to look for trousers, while I have the briefest of naps, followed by a beer on my balcony. Laid back is working for me…
23:10
We meet at 19:15 and head out into that there Battambang. We’re aiming for a restaurant called Jaan Bai, about which I’ve heard good things. The rain is persistent, but not heavy. It’s umbrella worthy though. We arrive at Jaan Bai a mixture of hot and wet. The food is sublime. Felix has some salt and pepper calamari to start, which is a great example of the genre. I have a pork belly and cucumber salad - sensational. Felix definitely wins the mains - a huge chunk of beef short-rib, slowly braised in herbs, spices and a coconut broth. It’s meaty, wobbly, aromatic, delicious. My fish amok is also excellent. A mild and fragrant fish curry, through which beaten eggs are mixed, before the whole lot is stuffed into a banana leaf cup for steaming. I’ve had it before, but this one is particularly great. We both agree that the food tastes even better as we discover that the restaurant gives half its profits to a local orphanage. Felix has room for a dessert, but I do not. I can just about fit in a small flight of flavoured Cambodian rice wines. The ginger and red chilli variant is amazing - properly hot. The lemon and lemongrass version is fresh and zingy. The coconut and pineapple offering is tropical. The last is, well - not to my taste. Anise and coffee. It tastes a little like Covonia cough linctus. Best avoided.
We wander back along the river, and find ourselves in Street Art Bar, a kind of hipster homage. The drinks are warm, the owner insane, the décor a little reductive - what’s not to like? The music is actually pretty good. a trio of local yoofs doing some really cool stuff. We decide to move on after one drink though. We walk past a bar, the name of which we have yet to discover, that is banging out ultra-fast electro house type shiz. We walk on by. We stop in at Rainbow, where another trio of local yoofs is doing similarly good stuff. We (I) befriend a couple of street cats. They’re terribly cute. Time is cracking on though. It’s nearly 23:00, so we head back to our hotel, through the continuing drizzle. We're both looking to a lie-in tomorrow, as our tour doesn't start till 13:00. 10:00 alarm I reckon...Weiterlesen
Day 10 - Life-wild
21. Juni 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 24 °C
18:45
What a day!
A relatively early start, but nothing like the brutality of the 04:00 alarm call I’m used to on African safaris. Felix is also up with the lark, and we meet in the car park just before our pick up at 08:00. We meet our guide, Klin, who immediately tells us that we are inappropriately dressed. It’s wet enough (please refer last night’s rainstorm) that leeches are a risk, so we need trousers. I’ve got some Columbia bush pants, but Felix is bereft. I lend him my North Face zip-offs, which *sort of* fit him. The long trousers tickle his ankles, but they’ll do.
We jump into our minivan, and head off to the national park. I’m not entirely sure what to expect today. It’s not quite a safari in the Africa mould, but there’s plenty of wildlife to experience. We’re apparently going to go on a bush walk, which will be awesome, and some other stuff. We stop for caffeine and a quick wander around the study centre. Klin comes to grab us, as there have been elephant reports nearby. We bundle into the van, and head up the road.
What we see, I’ll be honest, shocks me. I’m so used to the African variety of safari, that seeing people out of their vehicles not 10 metres from an elephant is bordering on disturbing. In Africa, you don’t even get out of the vehicle if you’re busting for a pee. In Thailand, it’s positively encouraged. We pull up at the side of the road, and Klin motions us out. Weird. Weird, weird, weird. Felix is loving it though. I’ll admit, there’s something incredibly raw about standing near this animal, that I know from experience can be so dangerous and destructive. It takes me a while to be able to just relax and enjoy a majestic wildlife encounter.
We stop briefly again at the visitor centre to don some leech socks, then head off for our bush walk. It is the most incredible sensation. There’s a small chance we could come across some sizeable game, but the likelihood is that we’ll see lots of smaller creatures on our trek. We’re looking at a good couple of hours marching through the jungle. BTW - we look up the difference between a rainforest and a jungle, and we’re deffo in a jungle. There’s something serene about the jungle. I mention to Felix that folks often talk about peace in the same breath as quiet - but that the jungle is incredibly peaceful, and anything but quiet. There’s a cacophony throughout our hike, but it doesn’t detract from the sense of calm, balance and serenity that we both experience.
We spend a half hour with a family of gibbons. Their movement through the canopy is so effortless and graceful. We start to beat a somewhat hasty retreat when they start to throw scat at us. This is apparently standard behaviour. Felix spots a snake, which surprises us all. Klin moves like lightning and grabs it by the tail so we can take a closer look. I wince a little at the poor thing’s treatment, and it definitely seems to anger the snake quite significantly. Klin brings us a cicada, maker of that so familiar noise, but a creature I’ve never seen in the flesh. We see some utterly funky and furry caterpillars, some giant squirrels (not as big as the name suggests…). We then hike a couple of miles to meet our driver/van. I don’t think I’ve ever sweated so much. The heat index is up in the high 40s again today, and while the jungle canopy provides some blessed shade, it’s still steaming hot.
After lunch, we head off back into the park. We spend some time with some sambar (big deer) and some pig-tailed macaques. Oh and some butterflies. SO many butterflies… We stop briefly at a waterfall, which looks like it would be a sight to behold in the wet season, but is a little underwhelming today, compared to everything else we’ve seen. We finish up with a trip to the highest point of the park, which has an other-worldly view across the valley. It’s dramatically cooler up here. We both find it pleasant.
Time’s getting on - it’s after 16:00. We head back to our guesthouse, which is a good hour’s drive away. Felix manages a not insubstantial snooze. I feel my eyes getting heavier, and nearly drift off a couple of times, only to be foiled by a pothole / speed bump / bridge etc etc. No matter.
Back at Siam Dasada, I have one of the finest showers I’ve ever had. It takes several minutes for the water to heat up, and it’s not exactly a power shower, but washing the dust, heat and sweat off me is a deliciously delightful experience.
I reward myself with a glass of my leftover wine from yesterday. I feel I’ve earnt it.
22:00
We’ve planned to eat at Siam Dasada this evening, largely because we’re almost out of cash, and don’t want to grab more before we head to Cambodia. We head to the restaurant via the reception desk, where we ask (with the aid of Google Translate) for a taxi at 07:45 in the morning to take us to Prachin Buri. What follows is confusing, slow, and slightly troubling. The guy I talk to spends about 10 minutes on the phone, I assume trying to locate a cab company in the not too distant vicinity. He then phones someone else, and someone else. At no point does he check back in with us- we are clueless. He finally accosts someone sitting in the reception area, who may or may not have something to do with the hotel. He comes over to us, and agrees to give us a lift to the station tomorrow. We agree a 07:45 meeting time, and start hoping that he’ll actually be there. If the very worst comes to the very worst, there’s a later train we can take.
From there, we head on down to the restaurant, where Google Translate informs us that the kitchen closed at 19:00. It is 19:30. Ok - back to Tipsy Bar it is, which will dig even further into our remaining Baht reserves. We eat well - some crispy pork belly, and a prawn/glass noodle hotpot for Felix, and a Vietnamese sausage salad (!) and some fried rice for me. Felix’s hotpot is a dish I tried a couple of times on Koh Santa back in April, and which I LOVED. I’ve completely forgotten about it though. My salad is very tasty, if a little avant-garde. There is once again a band. We briefly harbour vain hopes that they’ll be better than last night’s offering. They are not. The rain stays away, and we’re back at Siam Dasada a little after 21:00. Early start tomorrow, assuming Mr I’ll Give You a Lift guy actually turns up.Weiterlesen
Day 9 - Welcome to the jungle
20. Juni 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 26 °C
16:00
The public transport options up to Khao Yai National Park are limited. There’s a train that runs to Pak Chong, to the North of the park, but we’re staying South, and getting across the park will prove tricky. We decide to jump in a cab, as the Grab app reckons it’s only going to be 1,100 Baht. This seems very cheap to me, but - ok. Our driver arrives, and immediately starts to negotiate an increase. Part of me wants to tell him to fuck off, but the greater part of me recognises that the price quoted by Grab (an Uber type company) is incredibly low compared to the around town cab prices we’ve been paying during our stay in Thailand. Khao Yai is fully 2 hours / 100 miles away, and the price he’s asking for seems reasonable. I checked with a couple of local cab companies yesterday, and they all wanted upwards of 4,000 Baht for the same journey. Our negotiation is fairly stilted, as our driver speaks very little English, and that’s twice as much Thai as I have. Google Translate saves us though, and soon enough we’re en route.
The drive out is hair-raising. I’ve not done a long (ish) drive in a small vehicle yet. Our minivan experience to Pai and back is the closest to it. It’s ‘interesting’ to be able to see what the driver dude is up to here. He’s obviously keeping an eye on where we’re going, but mainly he’s watching a Thai TV soap opera. He’s definitely in the ‘confidently aggressive’ category of cab driver. We’re happy enough in the back, chatting away, and trying to ignore the occasional sharp braking…
The drive up takes fully 2 hours. We very nearly head in the wrong direction at one point, but I catch it in time. We realise (via the means of Google Translate etc etc) that there is another very similarly named hotel about 10km in the opposite direction. Close one, that. Arriving to Siam Dasada, we realise:
a) we’ve snagged an absolute steal, and
b) we may be the only guests at the lodge
We’re paying around £35 per room, per night, and the accommodation is palatial. Properly deluxe. We pop to the lodge restaurant to grab a light lunch, as neither of us has eaten today. Felix orders ‘shrimp filled doughnuts’ which turn out to be nothing of the sort, but which are delicious, breaded Thai fishcakes. I have a very decent prawn Phad Thai. I ask for a glass of wine, and am brought the bottle, and a wine glass. I ask for a glass of wine. The wine glasss is taken away, and a champagne glass brought in its place. It takes a little while, but ultimately it transpires that they don’t sell wine by the glass. To be fair, with this level of occupancy, they’d risk a lot of wine wastage, and nobody needs that kind of negativity in their life. I dive into the wine, which is a decent Chilean Chardonnay. Felix is heading out for a bike ride around the lodge, and I’m gonna read for a bit. I’m half hoping there might be a snooze lurking…
22:30
There WAS a snooze lurking. I have maybe 1.5 hours of afternoon delight. We head out at 19:30 in search of a bar a short walkaway called Bamboo Bar. It is closed. Several hundred metres down the road is Tipsy Bar. We decide to go and at least take a look. Success! It’s open. There’s a duo setting up on the live music stage, there’s an orange statue of the Incredible Hulk in the garden, and they have wine. We settle in.
We have some food - a mountain of seafood fried rice for Felix, along with some fried squid eggs, and a seafood omelette with crispy pork rice for me. Both v tasty. Vicki and I tried squid eggs back in April, and did NOT enjoy them. These are a marked improvement. I think the ones we had were simply boiled. These are sliced, breaded and deep fried. If you didn’t tell me otherwise, I’d think they were pieces of calamari. Once again, I ask for a glass of wine. Once again, this proves problematic. I’ve still got 1/2 bottle of my lunchtime Chardonnay in my room, and it looks like it’s gonna be joined by half a bottle of red wine in a couple of hours. I comment to Felix that I feel al little like we’re at the only eatin house in the Bayou. There’s a closeness in air, a deafening chorus of cicadas, and real sense that we’re a million miles from the nearest population centre.
We finish eating, as:
a) the band strikes up, and
b) a huge rainstorm kicks off
The rainstorm does drown out the sound of the music, and this is no terrible thing. The rain intensifies, until it’s as heavy as any rain I’ve ever seen. The wind direction changes slightly, so that a light drizzle is being blown into the tin roof under which we’re sitting. It’s not unpleasant. It’s probably the coolest I’ve felt since we arrived. The rain continues, unabated. If it’s even possible, it gets heavier. Then the lightning starts. It’s a good few miles away from us initially, and manifests as thick sheets of lightning across the clouded sky. It gradually gets closer to us though, until vivid forks crack very close by to us. Most everyone else that was sitting outside has moved indoors to stay dry. Not us though - this is way too much fun to watch. Whilst gazing into the eye of the storm, we realise just how batshit crazy the garden ornaments are. Obviously, we’ve got our friend orange Hulk. There’s a Spiderman hanging from the ceiling as well. A variety of Harley-Davidson signs around the place, a red UK style telephone box, and a cartoon mouse. Obviously.
After an hour, the rain starts to lighten. We consider making a run for it. We’re probably a 10-12 minute walk from our room. Neither of us has an issue getting soaked, but equally - neither of us particularly wants to get struck by lightning. We wait for perhaps another 30 minutes, The lightning strikes feel a little less intense, and little less frequent. We call for the bill.
Now - we’re slightly running out of cash. I brought about 20,000 Baht in cash with me, and Felix took out 10,000 when we arrived. We’ve both significantly underspent against our budget over the past week, so haven’t needed to re-up with cash just yet. We’re in Thailand for 2 more days, and have been hoping not to have to visit an ATM before we make it to the Cambodia border. The Bamboo bar that we’d hoped to go to earlier accepts credit cards. The Tipsy Bar, where we’re currently being presented with a bill, does not. It’s fine - we might just be a bit tight for cash when we jump on the train on Saturday to head for Poi Pet… We’ve both got some US Dollars to get us started once we get into Cambodia.
We make our move. Felix strips off his t-shirt. I do not. The rain - which in the UK would constitute heavy rain, but over here is nowt but a light shower, is quite pleasant. As we march down the road, a bolt of lightning cleaves the sky. We’re surrounded by the growling call of bullfrogs. It’s pretty other worldly. We see a few more vivid lightning strikes on the walk back, and we’re both ducking instinctively, as though this is somehow going to improve our chances of not being struck by it. I reason that I’m walking next to a 25 foot tall lightning conductor, so should be ok. Back at the lodge, huge puddles have appeared where there were none when we left. I’m wet through, but not as wet to the bone as was possible. We’re going to try and get some VPN/screen cast action going to watch the England vs Denmark game. Wish us luck….Weiterlesen
Day 8 - What? M’hat! Hat!
19. Juni 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 28 °C
17:30
We both sleep the sleep of the just. It’s the first time I’ve slept well without chemical assistance on this trip, and I wake up with a real spring. I was conscious of feeling a little chilly overnight. Felix reports that he had to play around with his A/C unit to find the Goldilocks point of perfection. We’re both foregoing breakfast this morning, and keen to get out and about. We’re starting at Wat Mahathat, one of the foremost temple complexes in Ayutthaya. It’s only 600m down the road, but we’re both feeling the heat by the time we get there. As early as 11:00, the heat index is already showing 43C. It’s gonna be a melter.
The temple complex is fascinating. It was largely destroyed during the second Burmese / Siamese war in 1767, yet still we can sense the size and scale of this Buddhist monument. We both find ourselves wondering what it would have been like before its razing - how would it have sounded? What would we have smelt? How many people would there have been? We also find ourselves discussing the nature of religion. Both of us have largely rejected our Christian upbringings, and agree that Buddhism is probably the closest thing to an organised religion that either of us could tolerate. I guess there’s something about living a life that values all around you, that encourages constant self-reflection in the search for enlightenment, that doesn’t offer a get-out-of-jail card for the acknowledgement of sin - all of these seem like a good thing. It’s immaterial - neither of us is in the market.
We stop in at a very air-conditioned café for a brief sharpener, and hatch a plan to seek shelter for our next cultural pit-stop. We head for the Chao Sam Phraya National Museum, a collection of artefacts and relics from the countless temples that once stood around Ayutthaya. It’s a 20 minute walk which, in hindsight, was perhaps a little foolhardy. We’re constantly scuttling between shady areas to keep out of the sun’s rays. Arriving, we walk into a high-ceilinged atrium that smacks of conditioned air. It’s a joy.
The museum itself is a great. The exhibits are largely focused on gold, and the many uses during the Siamese kingdom age. There are some examples of jewellery, and some somewhat more extravagant uses - including a gold whisk, a crown made from gold thread, and a gold plated umbrella. Very glam. Felix briefly befriends a group of American women, then runs away. It’s a pleasant diversion for an hour or so.
It’s 13:00, and we’re both getting peckish. We head to the other side of Ayutthaya old town, to the riverside, and to a lovely little restaurant by the water’s edge. We’re the only guests there, and are warmly welcomed. Felix orders some soft-shell crab in black pepper, and I have some freshwater prawns with a herb sauce. Both are spectacular. The very best of shellfish, treated simply. Lip-smackingly good.
We head off in search of the main market of Ayutthaya, and find a place that’s all but deserted. Later investigation reveals that it starts early (5am) and finishes early (about ten minutes before we arrived). We grab a cab to the Japanese village instead. Ayutthaya was something of a multi-cultural hub from the 16th century onwards, attracting traders from across Europe and Asia. There are museums for several of these, including Holland, Portugal, and the one we’ve come to - Japan. There’s a picturesque garden by the riverside, with some pretty Japanese influences. There’s also a ‘study centre’ which is inside, and therefore brilliant. As we’re about to leave the study centre, we’re ushered into a little cinema theatre to watch a quick (we think?) film about this period of time. It reminds me of the occasional ‘educational’ video we’d watch at school in a history or geography class. It’s coming up on 16:00, and we’re both steaming. We agree to repair to our guesthouse for a couple of hours chill time before heading out later.
23:00
We head out at 19:30, aiming for the night market - which is closed, though we’re not sure why. We head for a street side restaurant a few hundred metres down the street, which specialises in boat noodles - a delicacy of this region - and that is also closed. We start to wonder whether Wednesday is the new Sunday. There’s a street food market on the road in front of us, which is NOT closed. We spot some very tasty looking, some frankly weird looking food, and some stuff that we’re not 100% sure counts as food. There’s a stall selling chicken - all of it. Chicken ass anyone? We buy a sausage each, and it is DELICIOUS. Pork, minced with lemongrass, coriander, chilli and some other shiz.
We carry on up the road, which it transpires is called Bang Ian, and stop in at a bar called Khao San. It reminds me instantly (and obviously) of the Khao San road in Bangkok. In fairness, I suspect that’s what they were aiming for… There’s a strong and pleasant smell of Thai weed in the air, and a frankly astonishing playlist on their TV. We hear Eminem, Green Day, Nirvana, Van Halen, Lil Jon in the space of 20 minutes. We play a few games of Connect 4.
While we’ve been in Khao San, there’s been a rain storm. A big one. We were only in there about 40 minutes, but there are huge puddles of muddy water all over the streets. I’m more than a little disappointed I wore my flip-flops, as I’m sliding all over them. We decide to head for a bowl of noodles, only to find the place no longer serves noodles. Strange. The power of Google Maps takes us instead to a really good Vietnamese place. Felix orders something the likes of which I’ve never experienced. We *think* it’s some rice noodle wrappers stuffed with some prawns, but couldn’t swear to it. Banging though. I have some grilled pork with sticky rice, and we share some Summer rolls. All really good, and a more than decent feed for less than a tenner = WINNING. Time’s getting on. We head back to our guesthouse via a 7/11 to grab some supplies for our journey up to Khao Yai tomorrow. The heat dictated that we leave the A/C on in our rooms when we went out, and we’re both very pleased to have made that decision when we arrive back…Weiterlesen
Day 7 - Training day
18. Juni 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 28 °C
11:00
I sleep through the night (good) but am awake a little before 06:00 (bad). It’s all progress in the right direction, but I suspect I’ll feel more than a touch jaded later. Our train today is scheduled to take a little over 9 hours, but I have no clue whether Thai trains are likely to run to time. Departure time from Chiang Mai is 08:50, where the train originates, so we’re aiming to be there for 08:30. I’m packed in decent time, and ping Felix to check his progress. I’m a little alarmed when I receive no response. I don’t *think* he’s a candidate for sleeping in / accidentally snoozing alarm etc etc. I knock on his door as I pad downstairs, and am reassured when it sounds like he’s actually - you know, up and about.
At the station, we grab supplies for the journey. I believe we’ll get some food and refreshments served onboard the train, but have been warned not to rely on these. Boarding the train, there’s a blast of chilled air. There are non A/C trains that run up and down the same line, so it’s gratifying to know we’ll be kept cool along the journey. We find our seats. They look comfy enough, and offer enough legroom even for the 12 foot tall Felix. Behind us, an American couple are having what sounds like a bit of a domestic. They also don’t sound best pleased at the comfort of their seats. I’m not 100% sure what they expected - the tickets cost £8 for a 9 hour journey over a 420 mile distance.
The train is a touch late leaving, but soon enough we’re under way. A few minutes later, we’re clear of the Chiang Mai urban sprawl, and out into a desperately verdant countryside. I sit and watch the world go by. I spend an hour reading about Ayutthaya, our destination today, and plotting places to go, stuff to eat and the like. Our guesthouse is bang in the centre of the old town, and spitting distance from many of the temples and sights we want to visit. It’s also on the same block as some great sounding restaurants.
Ayutthaya is an ancient city, though exactly how ancient is up for grabs. Its official founding date is 1351 AD, but there’s some evidence to suggest it was actually founded as early as the late 13th century. The old city is based on an island formed at the conjoining of the Chao Phraya and Pa Sek rivers. For 4 centuries, it was the capital of the Siam kingdom, until it was destroyed in 1767, during the second Burmese/Siamese war, as a direct result of which, the capital seat of Siam was transferred to Bangkok, where it remains to this day. Many of the ancient sites in Ayutthaya have been repaired and renovated, though some remain ruins. It was granted UNESCO World Heritage Site status in 1991. It promises to be an eye-opening and fascinating insight into ancient Thai history, and the Buddhist religion…
15:10
We’ve been moving very slowly for the past 3 hours, slowing winding our way through rural idylls. We’ve stopped a few times, but in towns that seem pretty slow and sleepy. We’re out of the hills now (or FOR now, at any rate…) and passing rice paddy after rice paddy. I’ve spent I don’t know how long gazing aimlessly out of the train window, watching the world go by. It’s occasionally made me quite soporific, but not quite sleepy enough to attempt a nap. The carriage is almost always full - as many leaving the train as boarding. We pass through Phitsanulok, what looks to be a sizeable city right in the heart of central Thailand. I’d like to come back to this part of Thailand - the North and central regions. It’s an incredibly different proposition to the crazy pace of the islands in the South, and one to which I find myself drawn. I’d happily combine it with a trip into Myanmar, which is a country that I find intriguing and saddening in equal measures. I’d probably need a couple of months to do the full lot justice though…
17:48
Our progress has stalled. I wondered if we were perhaps falling a little behind schedule. We end up stationary at Pak Nam Pho for about 45 minutes. When questioned, the train crew reckon we’re running around an hour behind schedule. It’s not disastrous by any means, but it will mean a fairly late arrival into Ayutthaya. On the up side, our train food is brought to us - a tasty Pad Gra Pow with pork. There’s no ‘little bit/tourist spicy’ here. We get the full beans Thai version that’s served to everyone, and it’s hot. We’re both more than hungry, so we devour it, but the heat lingers for some time after we’ve finished. Alarmingly, it was served with a little sachet of chilli oil with some sliced orange chillies in it. Neither of us thought to add it, which is probably for the best. We pass through some torrential downpours. In the chilly, air-conditioned carriage, you could almost imagine it’s cold outside. A brief visit to the toilet (in the corridor between carriages - NOT air-conditioned) reminds me that it’s hot and sticky…
22:30
We end up pulling in to Ayutthaya station at 19:30, about 90 minutes late. It’s not the worst of delays, and we’ve at least been keep frosty en route. We jump in a cab and head to our guesthouse, which transpires to be wooden bungalows, very much in the ‘cabin the woods’ style. Murders abound, no doubt. It’s properly hot, and we both crank up the A/C units in our rooms in an attempt to cool down.
We determine to head out for a wander. There’s actually a lovely, cooling breeze out on the street. We can see hints of the ancient temples of Ayutthaya in the distance as we walk, but we’re gonna check those out tomorrow. We pitch up at a cool bar called Coffee House. There’s a band warming up, but the beer is cold. Apparently so is Felix’s Sprite. We have some snacks, and talk guitars, travel plans, thrash metal - your usual sort of dinner table convo. The band strikes up. We were 50/50 whether they’d be murdering western covers, or singing more local material - maybe even their own? It transpires they’re covering the gamut of Thai pop. Several of the service team are wandering around singing along.
Part of me could happily settle in here for the duration. More of me is knackered after a not great night’s sleep, and a looooong day travelling. Felix and I decide to call it a night…Weiterlesen
Day 6 - Coming down the mountain...
17. Juni 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 26 °C
08:00
ZOPICLONE! ZOPICLONE! ZOPICLONE!
12:00
It feels really steamy this morning, and that the clouds are heavy with rain. Felix and I grab some breakfast around 09:00, and get packed up for our 11:00 bus. The walk up to the bus stop is sticky. As we arrive at the bus station, it’s just starting to rain. The bus sets off in decent time, and at quite a clip. We briefly discuss to which famous racing driver we’ll compare our bus driver. Felix initially thinks Ayrton Senna, but then hits on the right answer - Ken Block (RIP). We hoon round some pretty tight corners. I can remember coming up this way a few days ago, and it’s very fair to say our speed was less than half what we’re doing now. Admittedly, there’s an uphill/downhill situation to factor in, but still…
We’re both a little sad to be leaving Pai. It’s been the perfect 0kicking off point for our trip. We both feel like we’ve got jet-lag pretty much licked, and having such a peaceful place with such a slow pace of life has doubtless helped us along. It’s a very easy place to spend time, with some very cool bars and restaurants to visit. There’s more of the surrounding countryside to explore - for sure, we that’ll have to wait for next time. If you’re ever planning to be in Northern Thailand, I can’t recommend highly enough that you spend some time in and around Pai. It’s on my list of places to come back to - 100%.
We’ve a quick overnight in Chiang Mai before a long train day tomorrow. I’ve treated us to a hotel with a pool, as Felix is something of a water-baby. I don’t know that we’ll wanna spend a ton of time exploring Chiang Mai later today, so an afternoon by the pool might be in order.
17:00
Our driver is nuts. We’ve gone from ‘enterprising - just trying to get his passengers there in decent time’ to ‘why are you overtaking 3 cars and a lorry on a blind corner, dude?’ We come to a red light at one point. Our intrepid driver cuts across two lanes of traffic, pulls sort of a u-turn, and rejoins the carriageway on the other side of the lights, which saves us all of 30 seconds. Maybe he’s under the influence…
As we arrive back in to Chiang Mai, the heavens open - some seriously fat rain. Our hotel’s lovely. Very boujee. The décor wouldn’t be out of place in a New York loft apartment. Felix heads for a rain-soaked swim, and I decide on a little wander around the local neighbourhood. I pitch up at a bar that I think’s attached to a hotel, and have a pretty damn good glass of white wine. I’m reminded of Vicki and my experience a few months ago, where the quality of wine was, well - variable. As a result, I have 3. Heading back to the hotel, I JUST manage to miss getting absolutely pooned on by the latest rain storm. Quick shower, and we’ll head out for an evening wander around this part of Chiang Mai.
22:30
The rain seems to have abated, but the air is thick. We pitch up at a pool / sports / craft beer bar. the beer’s great, but by the power of Grayskull, it’s expensive. I’ve very quickly got used to paying £1 for a Chang. A 400ml pour of an admittedly lovely Hazy IPA is £6. We play a few racks of pool. I played a lot in my yoof, but until the game Felix and I played a couple of days ago, I think it’s probably been 20 years. I’m rusty beyond belief. Very, VERY gradually, my game comes back.
By 19:00, we’re both peckish, and head for Coconut Shell, a restaurant I’ve heard is great, and also mainly visited by locals. We order a bunch of things - some stir-fried Morning Glory, some Chiang Mai sausage, a Pad See Ew, and a Gaeng Hang Lay curry - something I’ve not heard of before, but which I’ll be cooking at home. It’s a deeply spiced, chilli hot pork curry, spiked with aromatics. It is, I think, the closest Thai equivalent to a Beef Rendang curry. We both agree it’s the best meal we’ve had on our trip so far. Guess what - less than a tenner.
From here, it’s a short walk down to a street renowned for having more than a couple of backpacker bars. We stop in at one, and play a fairly comical game of beer-pong. Comical, because:
Felix doesn’t drink, so…. And
It take us a LONG time to complete this pretty simple game
The bars are starting to get a touch busier, but it’s still pretty quiet. We’ve got an early start tomorrow, and a looooong day of travel, so agree we’re probs best off having an early night.Weiterlesen
Day 5 - Locating the off-switch
16. Juni 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 23 °C
13:45
Getting a touch bored of this now. I’m wide awake just after 05:00, and zero luck trying to get back to sleep. The upside, if there is one, is that I’ve woken later with jet-lag than the previous few nights, so am progressing. I completely forgot to take a Zopiclone last night, so will do my damnedest to remember tonight.
I get up around 07:00, make a coffee, and head for my hammock. I’m enjoying the gentle swing while I read my book, when I realise I’m being set upon by a million mossies. The riverside location of Pai Loess is beautiful and peaceful, but it does come with drawbacks…
I’ve not eaten since our cookery class yesterday afternoon, and by 09:00, am properly peckish. I ping Felix to see if he’s up and about, and give him a generous 10 minutes to reply, before heading to grab something to eat. While I’m eating, I’m in touch with a car rental place just outside Pai. I figure this might be the most convenient and cheapest way for us to get around today. The company will happily drop the car over to us, but it needs to be before midday. As 11:00 approaches, I’ve still not seen nor heard from Felix, so tell the car rental dude that we’ll pass. Finally, he emerges. I’d begun to wonder whether he’d headed back out last night in search of rave based fun, and thus had a late one. Nah. It transpires he’s just had a REALLY good sleep. This irks me, given the paucity of my own. I’m heading back to bed to try and catch up a bit, so we agree to head out around 14:00.
22:30
We hire a driver to take us to the hot springs, a short drive North of Pai. It’s a Song-Thaew. For those that don’t remember / haven’t read my April Thailand blog, this is a pick-up truck, with a metal structure in the flatbed to accommodate passengers. There are no seatbelts. The seats are a pretty basic bench. It’s highly advised to hang on tight - particularly up in the mountains, where there are countless twisty turns. Felix and I are engrossed in conversation, so much so that we kind of miss that we’ve been driven into the middle of a rainforest. We’re surrounded by thick forest, huge green bushes, and can hear the sound of running water not far from where our driver has parked.
The springs themselves are a fab way to locate the off-switch. I’ve seen pictures of the springs completely rammed during the peak season, but there are perhaps 10 people in the pools when we arrive. There are several hot springs in the area surrounding Pai, but this one (Sai Ngam) is said to possess the clearest water, the prettiest surrounding, and the least sulphuric smell. It’s also at a consistent temperature - a pleasantly warm 40C. Some of the others are as hot as 85C, and visitors have the option of boiling an egg in the steaming pools. Neither of us has brought appropriate water shoes, so dance the dance of ‘ooh-aah’ as we walk to the pool across a rocky surface. Sliding into the water, it’s a blissful sensation. I don’t know that these particular springs are meant to have any healing properties, but I’ll pretend that they do. We spend time chatting, watching dragonflies, taking in the peaceful environs. There’s a group of western travellers - I suspected Spanish, but Felix thinks Italian - who briefly crank up a bluetooth speaker. Thankfully, they’re in the process of leaving, so it only interrupts our peace for a brief moment. We stay in the pool until pruned, exit to more of the ‘ooh-aah’ dance, dry and dress. I’m mindful to spend a little more time watching the world go by on the drive back to Pai, and am glad I did so. It’s a painfully pretty part of the world. We’re in a valley surrounded by peaks which are shrouded in cloud, and through which crepuscular sun rays are breaking…
Back in Pai, Felix is feeling ready for a nap, and I’m looking forward to chilling for a couple of hours with my book. We head out around 18:30, only to find the restaurant we’re aiming for is unexpectedly closed today. We head a little further down the road to the Gorilla Café. I have my first Pad Kra Pao - a stir-fry of minced pork, Thai basil and red chilli, simply served with steamed rice and a fried egg. It’s awesome. Hot and sour, with (I think?) some sweet soy sauce to temper the heat and bite. Felix opts for some tempura chicken and some spring rolls. I think the spring rolls he made freshly yesterday were a little better. Our dinner bill is comfortably under a tenner.
Felix has heard about a fire show happening tonight at a bar a little walk out of Pai city centre. We head in that direction after we’ve eaten, walking along a large-ish road, then a smaller road, then an earthen track between agricultural fields. I can feel the mossies landing on me while we walk, despite bathing myself in bug spray before we left. Arriving at Paradise Bar, we’re both immediately struck by how stereotypical it is of backpacker tropes. They sell weed and mushrooms at the bar, there’s a guy with an acoustic guitar running an open mic session when we arrive, there are man-buns everywhere… Felix suggests this is where backpackers come to get trained, and this very much tickles me. We can see some of the ‘Circus’ performers warming up before the live show. For the last couple of songs for the open mic, a guy accompanies with some beat-boxing. It is, let’s be clear, not good. He then starts up a little solo beat-box session, the highlight of which is stopping for a second in the middle of his ‘song,’ and exclaiming, “I’m losing my breath!”
We watch the first few performers of the fire show, and honestly - they’re a lot better than I’d perhaps assumed they might be. There’s definitely a grace of movement associated with the art form. With the right musical backing, it’s actually pretty bewitching. I’m pretty jaded though, so hit the eject button a little after 21:00. We walk back to town - around 15 minutes, and I leave Felix in the centre of town while I head back to Pai Loess. He’s meeting an old friend of his, who is incredibly randomly also in Pai at the moment. He (Ben) has been travelling for a while, and it’s pure kismet that their paths are crossing here. Back at my bungalow, I crack a beer, journal for a while, read for a bit.
DON’T FORGET YOUR ZOPICLONE.Weiterlesen
Day 4 - Food and fighting
15. Juni 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 23 °C
05:00
I wake up at 03:00. Bah humbug. Once again, I’m instantly awake and clear-headed. I try to sleep for 30 minutes, but even I’m sceptical. I give up, and read for a while, in the hope this will tire my eyes again. My reading is briefly interrupted by a somewhat urgent dash to the latrine. I don’t think it’s anything sinister - just my stomach recovering from the long journey out here, and likely acclimatising to new environment / food etc etc. I’m heartened when a further hour’s reading doesn’t require any additional latrine based dashes. Feeling fairly tired again. Hoping I can grab a few more hours…
10:30
Sleep never came. At 07:00, I give up trying. I grumpily make a coffee, and make for my balcony. The day feels sweaty. It feels like it’s rained a lot overnight. The verdant leaves of the Pai Loess garden are heavy with water. Felix is awake a little before 08:00, and we compare sleeping notes. He struggled to get off to sleep last night, but has at least slept through till now. We grab some breakfast at our resort, and make something approaching a plan. We’re both reluctant to bike ride today, so decide an afternoon cooking class is in order. I find a suitable option, negotiate starting time / dishes we’ll cook, and agree to pop in this morning to pay for the lesson.
Payment sorted, we head off on a meander around Pai. It’s a little after 09:00, and the town feels like it partied too hard last night, and is struggling to wake up. There are very few travellers up and about at this time on a Saturday. Felix and I both heard revelry going on near us last night. He - some sort of rave based activity, and I, a rather bizarre post-punk rockabilly sort of band. Reading that back, I do wonder whether I dreamt it, but I’m pretty sure not. We stop to chat to a few tour operators, to try and make plans for tomorrow, to get out of town to see some of the beautiful scenery surrounding Pai. The sun is trying to shine. Even at 10:00 it’s feeling pretty hot. We see a sign for some Muay Thai boxing this evening, and decide this will probably make for some decent entertainment. Felix heads off for a swim, while I head back to Pai Loess to try and catch up on some zizz.
19:15
Success! I manage a good 3 hours, waking at 14:00 ahead of our 15:00 cooking class. I feel a LOT better for it. Quick shower, and we’re heading off to Saveoi. We’re the only people in our class, which is great. The set up is awesome - a proper garden kitchen behind their restaurant. We’ve each selected two dishes to cook - spring rolls and a Paneang curry for Felix, and a glass noodle salad and stir-fried chicken noodles for me. We start with the noodle salad / spring rolls. Our teacher, Mwanee (sp?) is a patient and insightful coach. She talks us through some of the basics of Thai cookery - ingredients, styles, flavourings. Our ingredients are carefully laid out in front of us, and we’re walked through each stage. The resulting food is, and I’m not kidding here, tremendous. I ate similar salads a bunch of times back in April, and I’m delighted now to know how to recreate them at home. Felix’s spring rolls are properly excellent. There’s more technique in his dish, and I’m more than impressed at the quality of what he creates. We sit to scarf these down, and move onto our second dishes.
There’s a brief hiatus as we come to realise Paneang curry heavily features peanuts, to which Felix has a slight intolerance. Plans are adapted to a yellow curry instead, and all is well with the world once again. There’s some quite intense manual labour going in to making his yellow curry paste. I realise I’m being less than sympathetic towards his efforts. I’m hopeful my stir-fried noodles are in the same vein as those Vicki and I tried on our street food tour of Bangkok. The ingredients certainly seem to be pointing in that direction… The dish is simple to cook, though I’m surprised at the use of water at a couple of stages of the cooking. There’s also a store-bought ‘XO’ sauce used at the end of cooking, about which I need to learn more as it seems critical to the colour, texture and flavour of the dish. Felix has done great things with his curry - it smells wonderfully aromatic and enticing. Again, we sit to eat - and we’re both more than a little pleased with ourselves. As we eat, Mwanee brings us a cookbook, containing the recipes we’ve cooked today, as well as others that are available to cook. I’ll treasure it.
Food and heat combine to leave Felix feeling nap-destined. We head back to Pai Loess, and agree to touch base a little later, before the boxing starts at 20:00. I read for a while but can feel my eyes growing heavy, so lay my head down - you know, just in case there’s some nap to be had. It transpires there is. I’m conscious that I’m doing very well catching up on sleep through the day, but it would be far preferable to manage a full night’s sleep at some point. I’ve brought some Zopiclone with me. Reckon I’ll treat myself to one tonight, to see if I can course correct a little…
23:50
We’re up and out around 19:30. We stop at a cool little bar called Vinyl Sky - a rooftop cocktail joint. Tunes are good, chat is awesome, cocktail is brilliant. I have something called a Flying Moon, which is basically a vodka martini with some lychee liqueur added to it. While chatting, we dissect the nature of monogamy, views on friendship, the challenges of parenthood - despite neither of us being a parent.
We head further up the road, to the Muay Thai boxing promotion. The big top is constructed with bamboo, and has some more than avant-garde décor. The fighting is visceral. I think this is the first live pugilism event I’ve attended. When I use the word pugilism, Felix laughs, but then acknowledges that despite sounding like I’m from the 19th century, it’s the right word. The bouts are well matched. We see at least one, and possibly two bones broken. The rituals when the fighters enter the ring, which are somewhat spiritual in nature, are entrancing. Neither Felix nor I are particularly familiar with the rules and regulations of Muay Thai. Yes - kicking is encouraged; elbows are a must. We’re both unsure about the more judo-oriented elements we witness, but they’re cheered by the crowd, and seem to be viewed well by the judges. We’re one row behind ringside, and the view of the ring is primal. Despite not necessarily feeling 100% comfortable with some of the beatings that are happening, I enjoy the evening more than I maybe thought I would. It’s £8 for 4 hours of brilliant entertainment.
The bouts finish about 23:30. We think briefly about grabbing some street food, but are both pretty jaded. We’ve got vague plans for tomorrow, so agree to meet for breakfast to thrash out what Sunday will entail…Weiterlesen
Day 3 - Mountain bound
14. Juni 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 23 °C
08:30
Well, that didn’t go quite as planned. I get off into a deep, dream filled sleep almost immediately, but wake at 01:30 as clear as a bell. I try for maybe an hour to get back off, with no luck. This is eerily similar to my first couple of nights in Bangkok in April - a mild bit of jet-lag, but jet-lag nonetheless. Giving up at 02:30, I occupy my time with some reading, some journal writing. I feel properly wide awake. Around 04:30, I start to feel a bit yawny, and my eyes are gaining weight. I try to sleep, and have some success. I’m a bit wakey, but sleep intermittently until my alarm goes off at 08:00. Not the best night’s sleep, but it’ll do for now. We’ll be in Pai by early afternoon, and a nap feels very likely to be in my future. Perhaps I’ll try for less than 5 hours this time…
12:09
We’re about half way to Pai. It transpires Felix has had a not dissimilar jet-laggy type experience, being wide awake for a few hours around midnight. He asks me whether I got bitten last night. I confidently state that I was not. This will come back to (pardon the pun) bite me. Picking up the bus is a more straightforward task than I’d feared / assumed. A 10 min cab ride drops us at the bus station, and a couple of strategically placed questions send us in the right direction of the company with whom we’re travelling. There’s a little confusion when we’re directed to ac couple of different minivans, but these idiosyncrasies are worked out quickly enough. Our backpacks are loaded onto the roof rack and covered with a tarpaulin. This is rainy season, don’t forget. We depart pretty much bang on time at 10:30, and head North.
The roads out of Chiang Mai are pretty bland - 2 lane highways with businesses coating the roadsides. The urban sprawl of Chiang Mai is much greater than I’d guessed. Fully 30 minutes after we leave the bus station, we’re still in the outer suburbs. Seeing the eminently walkable old town last night, I’d assumed a much smaller urban footprint. Soon enough, we’re out into the rural stretches, running up towards the hills. Felix and I natter, as a strangely uniform countryside passes by. That’s not to say it’s dull to look at - but simply that there’s a very definite character to it, that doesn’t seem to change for a good 40 minutes. We then start to climb, heading deeper and deeper into hill country. Our driver is an enthusiastic sort, and takes every fleeting opportunity to overtake slower vehicles, of which there are many. I’ve long since given up finding these manoeuvres scary or uncomfortable. The roads gradually narrow, and become very windy. Felix and I are sat at the back of the bus, and whilst I wouldn’t say we’re being thrown around, there are definitely some g-forces pushing us from side to side.
About 90 minutes into our journey, which promises to be somewhere between 2.5 and 4.5 hours depending who you listen to (though we don’t know why the huge variance), we stop at what seems to pass for a service station in the backwaters of northern Thailand. There’s an enterprising chap charging 3 THB for a visit to the toilet, and a further 5 THB if you require toilet paper. Felix finds a food stall selling baked ginger, which is our new favourite thing. In baking the ginger root, the fiery flavour is dampened, and a sweetness replaces it. The texture is changed as well, from a fibrous mess, to a firm, jelly like texture. They’re the best kind of gummies for grown-ups. Legs stretched, we pile back into the bus to continue onwards to Pai.
23:00
We drive through some heavy-ish rain on the last hour of our journey to Pai. Felix is feeling a little travel sick, so takes a nap for the last leg of the journey. Arriving into Pai, the temperature is high, and it’s steamy. Our guest house is a short walk away, so we decide to sweat it out. Pai is not big - the permanent population is somewhere around 3,000. I suspect, in peak season, the transient population is several times that. We’re here in low season, and I still suspect travellers outnumber locals. Despite this, the town doesn’t feel at all hectic or busy. The 5 minute walk to the river we must cross take us past countless bars, restaurants, street food stalls.
Arriving at the riverside, we discover the bamboo bridge has been washed away - when, we’re not entirely sure. There’s another bamboo bridge a few minutes walk to the North of us, so we head back up in that direction. The bridge is hilarious. I’m sure it’s perfectly stable, but walking across it is a little like walking across a bouncy castle. Could be fun in the dark…
We’re staying at Pai Loess Resort, right on the riverbank. It’s sleepy, in all the good ways. We’re greeted by the elderly, female owner, who is hilariously also called Tim. She shows us to our bungalows, which are great. Simple, but comfortable, clean etc etc. There’s a power outage when we arrive, but we’re assured the electricity should power back up within an hour. I’m aiming for a nap, but I’m fairly sure it’s/I’m too sticky to sleep. I have a quick cold shower to cool down, and lie down. Sleep is slow in coming. I’m just about to give up, when the power clicks back on, and the A/C unit purrs into life. The room cools quickly, and I’m soon in the land of snooze.
I manage a couple of hours. I don’t want to oversleep this afternoon only to struggle later, so this feels like a reasonable approach. It’s rained while I’ve been sleeping, but rather than contribute to the steamy atmosphere, it feels like it’s cleared the air a little. We head out, ostensibly in search of food. We’ve neither of us eaten much today. We stop in at a bar called Paizy where I introduce Felix to Manao soda (sans Vodka…), and where we play a calamitous game of pool. The rain’s come back in a pretty substantial way, so we bed in with another drink, in the hope it’ll quickly clear.
It doesn’t, so we head out in the persistent conditions, and aim for a restaurant a few mins walk down the road. Walking in warm rain is amongst my favourite things, so I’m happy getting soaked through. The restaurant is a tiny, family-run affair that’s said to serve some of the best noodles in Pai. Felix has a Tom Yum soup with prawns and rice, and I have a Pad See Ew - fried noodles with chicken. Both are banging. Our bill for dinner comes to £4.
Just near the bamboo bridge is a bar called The Jazz House which has some live music, towards which we head. Felix has decided to forego his socks, as they’re still soggy from the walk over to the restaurant, and quickly decides his t-shirt can do one too. I’m a little sceptical of his planned strategy of using his socks to dry himself before re-donning his t-shirt when we get to the bar. It’s a short walk, but we’re both substantially soggy on arrival. The sock strategy works better than I’d expected. The Jazz House is a properly esoteric little place. There’s a strong smell of weed in the air, some musicians warming up, and a hippy-ish American who looks to be in his 70s, who I suspect is the owner. We both order a Manao - loaded in my case - and settle down to listen to the live music show. The artist is talented. He’s playing an acoustic guitar with a pedal-board - used for loops and effects. He’s covering a wide range of styles - we hear some Arctic Monkeys, some Fleetwood Mac, some Oasis. I love watching these acoustic, solo, pedal-board performances. The best exponents of the art can really bring a song to life in a different way to the source material. I’ve seen an hour long show of KT Tunstall’s where she did nothing but, and it was sensational.
Time’s marching on, and I think we’re both still a touch jaded. We agree to review our plans for tomorrow once we’ve seen what the weather’s doing. We’re both interested in a cookery course while we’re here, which is a good shout if it’s pissing it down. If the weather gods shine on us, we’ll grab a couple of bikes, and head out of town to see some of the local countryside.
Felix heads straight back to the resort, whilst I pop to the 7/11 to grab a few room supplies. I’m delighted to find they have the locally (Thai) brewed Snowy beers in stock, including their Yuzu beer which I enjoyed so much back in April. Back in my room, I discover my earlier jubilance at not having been bitten was poorly placed. I have more than several / less than many itchy red welts on my legs. I send pictorial evidence of these to Vicki, who quite reasonably asks where my bug spray is. I quite reasonably reply that I know EXACTLY where it is - buried deep in my as yet unpacked backpack. I promise (to her, and to myself) to be more mindful of this for the remainder of the trip.
I read for a couple of hours, as my eyes grow steadily heavier. I’m hopeful a slightly later night combined with a MUCH shorter afternoon nap might let me sleep through the night…Weiterlesen
Day 2 - The other side of the world...
13. Juni 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C
10:20
42C’s medical attention continues for some time. He's on the oxygen mask for two hours - until the oxygen runs out I assume. After this, he starts to make a substantial recovery. This is obviously great news - but it has rather upset the balance of the flight. Half the cabin crew have been tending to him, and the other half haven’t been able to get past him to carry out the meal service. As a result, we don’t get fed and watered for close to 2.5 hours after take-off. I quickly reason that I’m not going to get much/any sleep on this flight either. Happily, we’ve not much planned for later today, so I can have an afternoon nap of dramatic proportions. Ultimately, I manage a sketchy hour before landing. It’ll have to suffice.
We make up some time in flight, and land just about 15-20 minutes late - plenty of time to make my connecting flight. I’m knackered though. The domestic connection gates are (predictably) on the opposite end of the airport. It takes me about 20 minutes to walk over, but the terminal is well air-conditioned. I’m starting to feel a little feverish and achey though. I’m hopeful this is just fatigue after a hectic few days, rather than anything more sinister.
Arriving at gate A2, I can clearly see Felix. Of course I can - he’s 17 feet tall. It’s a slightly weird, but very cool to meet like this, on the other side of the world. He’s made a friend on his journey from Abu Dhabi into Thailand - a Masters student who’s spending 6 months in Chiang Mai working on a humanitarian aid project.
Our final flight is a puddle jump - maybe an hour in flight. We’re quickly boarded, and leave on time. I cannot WAIT to get into my bed when we get to Chiang Mai…
17:30
The flight to Chiang Mai is one of those that seems to reach its cruising altitude, only to start descent immediately. Chiang Mai is a pretty small, provincial airport. We land at 11:05, have our hold bags in hand by 11:25, and are on our way to our guesthouse by 11:35. We take the scenic route around the town in a pre-booked taxi. We’re staying at the edge of the old town, and I suspect there are lots of small alleys and one way streets. We get ourselves checked in, and I collapse onto my bed. I’m feeling really rather rubbish, and I’m desperately hoping that a good sleep will improve things.
I’m asleep in moments, having just about managed to set an alarm for 17:00. I wake a few times along the way, but basically sleep for a full 5 hours. Waking, I find Felix has done much the same. I’m still not feeling quite right, but I can feel a marked improvement for some decent sleep. I’ll grab some cold and flu remedy at a pharmacy this evening, and hope that that’ll keep things in order.
#prayfortim’ssnuffles
23:00
We meet at 18:00, and set off with no particular destination in mind. We’re neither of us particularly hungry just yet, so figure we’ll just walk for a while, and see where the evening takes us. Chiang Mai seems fairly sleepy. There are a few people out walking on the streets. Most of the people we see are on mopeds/bikes and in cars. We pass a spectacular temple with Chinese style sloped rooves, and a scary looking cat. We amble by a large square, which is being used as a skate park by some half-decent skate-boarders. The city is small enough to feel quite familiar quite quickly. We pause for a pitstop - beer for me, ginger ale for Felix. He stopped drinking a couple of years ago now. I suspect this will do positive things to the amount I would otherwise drink on this trip.
Thirst slaked, we walk on, via a street food market that smells great, but which is occupied by about three times as many stallholders as customers. A man on stage is doing terrible things to an acoustic guitar. We briefly try (and fail) to find a bar nearby called Wetherspoons.
Our wanderings have spiked our appetites, so we head to a restaurant called Link for some dinner. I award myself my first Som Tam (papaya salad) of this trip - its familiar flavours and textures a welcome friend. I also order some deep-fried prawns in a tamarind sauce, which are stellar. Felix has a soft-shell crab and mango dish, which he declares excellent. The bill is comfortably below £30 for both of us, which feels like decent value.
While we’re eating, night has fallen - quickly, as is the way this close to the equator. The temperature is still in the mid 20s, and humidity is high, but it’s a far cry from the oppressive heat of Bangkok in April. Hopefully a sign of things to come. We’re likely to see quite a lot of rain in the next couple of weeks, and this will help keep the heat manageable. Tomorrow, we’re heading up into the mountains, to Pai, which sounds/looks amazing, and a great place to put roots down for a few days. Our bus is at 10:30, so we decide to head back to the hotel and have (hopefully) a good night’s rest. On the way back to the hotel, we see a different side to Chiang Mai, walking down its alleys and back-routes. There is some beautiful street-art on display - some is tagging, others more graffiti based artwork, and others again more classical artwork. It’s everywhere. We’re going to come back via Chiang Mai in a few days before we head South, and I note to myself to learn more about this trend.
Back at our guesthouse, I read for a while, but my eyes are intensely heavy. I set an alarm, and hope for the best.Weiterlesen
Day 1 - I've been here before...
12. Juni 2024, Arabian Sea ⋅ 🌙 29 °C
06:30
Morning! I’m scooting up the M23, comfortably ensconced in my cab. I’d initially planned to jump on the National Express coach, but the 05:45 departure felt just a touch brutal.
A full day of international travel awaits me. Gatwick via Dubai and Bangkok, and ending in Chiang Mai, in the North of Thailand. 4 weeks later, a flight back from Singapore. In between is kinda up for grabs, with very few fixed plans to speak of - a visit to a national park in Thailand, a flight from Phnom Penh to Singapore. Otherwise, it’s figure out along the way territory.
Oh, and I’m not travelling solo. My companion on this epic journey is not my beloved Vicki, but my cousin, Felix. Accurately, I think he’s my first cousin, once removed - but I’m not hugely up on the specifics of family trees, so ‘cousin’ will suffice. Like me, he lost his Dad last year, and like me, is taking some time out to figure out what’s next. He’s not done any far-flung travel, so I offered to let him join any of this year’s itinerary. I’m half hoping / half expecting that this trip will lead to a lifelong love of exploring the world. I’ll apologise to his bank manager later.
Having spent an amazing few weeks in central and southern Thailand in April, I’m excited to explore the North. I’m expecting a very different pace of life, a new food culture, a path less well worn. Cambodia - I’m not quite so sure what awaits. Speaking to friends who have travelled there, I suspect a simpler and starker way of life, and much more obvious poverty. Amazing things to see, for sure - but a perhaps more challenging culture with which to get to grips, and some really not that ancient history that I think will make me equal parts angry and sad. Singapore is a city I’ve wanted to visit for years, and with which I wanted to bookend this trip, as I’m ready for it to feel so incredibly different to the time in Thailand and Cambodia. Famously the cleanest and most organised city on the planet, the juxtaposition to rural Thailand, and various parts of Cambodia will be fun to experience.
Onwards chariot, to North Terminal!
08:15
There are quite a few more children here than:
a) I’d expected, and
b) is entirely necessary.
I find myself working out whereabouts we are in the school Summer term, and drawing the conclusion that most parents here are taking their kids out of school, and swallowing the resulting fine from the Local Education Authority, rather than paying the depressingly gargantuan price hikes of the Summer holidays. I grab some breakfast with a coffee, which feels terribly grown up. I’m soon lusting, however, after the peace and quiet (I know, it’s an airport, how dare I etc etc) of a bar with an over 18s policy.
08:45
I’ve been here before. I’m in Brewdog in Gatwick North terminal departures, readying myself for an Emirates flight. Two months ago, with Vicks, on part one of our trip to Thailand. Three months ago, on my tod, heading to Sri Lanka. I’m equal parts amazed and delighted that it doesn’t feel remotely stale. I have the same, raw excitement to be heading off on my travels that I did on each of those previous occasions.Vicki asked me yesterday if I think I’ll get bored of it by, I don’t know - this time next year, when I plan/hope to be going back to work. I really don’t think so. Every time I travel, every place I go, it just spurs me to go to more and new destinations. I’m fully expecting to catch a South American bug when we visit Brazil in October - and subsequently to want to journey to Chile, Colombia, Argentina, Peru. I’ve not even begun to explore Central America, and much of Africa remains unknown to me. I particularly want to spend some time in southern Africa that’s NOT South Africa - the 3 Ms of Madagascar, Mali and Mozambique feel like a good starting point, perhaps with a bit of Mauritius tacked on as well. And despite spending a chunk of time in South East Asia, I’ve got a tremendous itching to see Indonesia, the Philippines, Laos and Myanmar. And I really ought to get to China at some point. There’s definitely enough to keep me busy for a few years yet.
Brewdog have the over-18s policy I’m craving, and it’s a calm oasis amidst the buzzing throng of the departure lounge. I spend a delightful hour reading back some of my travel journals from this year’s trips. My sabbatical is flying past, but it feels an age ago that we were in New York over my birthday, in November last year. I’ve packed a huge amount into my break so far, and count myself incredibly fortunate to have a lot more fun and frolics yet to come.
Felix lives in York, along with much of my extended family. As a result, he’s flying from Manchester, via Abu Dhabi, and we’ll have some kind of family reunion in a bar in Bangkok Airport, before we jump on the same flight to Chiang Mai. It all feels very jet-set. Our flights leave at similar times. He’s at the airport in the departure lounge, currently deciding what useless tat to buy. We briefly discuss my stealing a rather attractive Brewdog pint glass, and creating an Insta account to record its travels around SE Asia.
I’m conscious there are things happening in the UK while I’m gone - some of which are a shame to miss, others - less so. I can’t pretend I’m not delighted to be missing the next three weeks of electioneering in the UK. The first couple of weeks have been more than enough for me. That said, I’ll definitely be setting an early alarm for the 5th July, to watch the results come in, and hopefully see a few Tories crying in school gymnasiums (gymnasia?).
I’m not too sad to be missing all but the final of the European Championships either. I’ve never been *that* fussed about international football. I remember being excited as respectively 8 and 12 for the ’86 and ’90 World Cups, but beyond that, I’ve never really got the fizz for big, international competitions. I’ll keep an eye from afar, but it’s reassuring to know I won’t feel like tracking down a bar in which to watch whatever England game at 03:00 local time.
I AM gutted to miss Glastonbury, and (as ever) a bunch of friends are going, and I know they’ll have the most amazing time. Vicki and I will try again for tickets next year. We both feel like we’ve got at least one Glasto left in us, and perhaps more… The headliner line-up this year doesn’t do that much for me, but I’ve said that at previous Glastos, and ended up having an incredible time exploring smaller stages and generally wombling around.
Most of all, I’ll miss my awesome Vicki. This is comfortably the longest we’ll ever have been apart. The ways of the modern world mean there are ample means to keep in touch, but it’s never the same as staring at her beautiful face…
20:43
My flight is called at 09:05. I hardly dawdle. I refill my water bottle, nip to the gents quickly, and head straight to the gate - where I’m chided as the gate is already closing? I can only assume the flight is pretty empty today, and so processing folks onto the plane has happened more quickly than usual. I’m on a 777-300, which whilst by no means a small plane, still flies about 50% of the passengers of an Emirates A380 leaving Gatwick. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m a little disappointed not to be on an A380 for this leg. Happily though, I arrive to my seat to find the other 2 in my row empty. The cabin crew guy tells me that there’s really no-one else to board, so I’ve got the row to myself = RESULT. Somebody in a row behind asks a flight attendant if they can have one of my seats, and are told no - it’s only for special people like me.
We push back a little early, and take off in good time. It’s tricky to rationalise the really pretty busy terminal earlier, with the pleasantly relaxed and quiet journey to Dubai. I guess the hordes of kids I encountered earlier are largely heading off on shorter trips - maybe across Europe?
I’m pretty jaded after an early start, and not a ton of sleep. I forego the lunch offering (but not the wine course), and try to grab some shut-eye. There is, unfortunately, a very screamy kid sitting across the aisle from me. He’s not crying, or even upset - he just likes to shout, a LOT. I manage to get an hour or so of scratchy sleep, but his screams pervade even my trustiest of noise cancelling cans. I try and catch his mum’s eye on a couple of occasions, but she’s having none of it.
I give up on the notion of sleep, and watch Dune 2. I figure that a 3 hour movie will take a large chunk out of the flight. I loved it in the cinema, and despite the scale not being quite as impressive on a 14” screen, it’s still a brilliant, brilliant film.
I wonder about having a glass of wine. My throat, though, is a little tight and sore. I’ve been a bit snuffly for a couple of days, and wonder if I’ve got a little bit of lurgy kicking around. I’ll grab some lozenges at Dubai Airport. We’re making good time, and the First Officer updates us to let us know we’re probably going to land a little early. Summertime has hit Dubai - gone are the pretty manic floods of a couple of months ago. The temperature is 39C, and weather shouldn’t delay us. You can never completely rule out a sandstorm in the UAE though…
We pull into our gate around 19:50 - fully 15 minutes ahead of schedule. I’m at a B gate, and departing from the A Concourse. Sadly, this denies me a return visit to the Hard Rock Café. I make do instead with a bar called Jack’s, and slide into a large glass of red wine. Haven’t seen a pharmacy yet, but I’ll deffo check that out in a mo.
Felix and I have a slightly surreal conversation, where he’s in an airport 50 miles down the road, and slightly bored. I treat myself to a further glass of Merlot, in the hope that it’ll help me kip for a good few hours on my next flight. Here’s hoping / fingers crossed / touch wood etc etc.
23:55
My flight’s a little delayed leaving Dubai. We board in good time, but there’s apparently an electrical issue. To fix it, the crew are going to (I’m not kidding) turn it off, and turn it back on again. It works, but we’ve missed our take off slot, and have to join the queue for another. We finally get underway around 23:00. Take off’s fine. I get up when the seatbelt sign is turned off to grab my cans, and find three cabin crew around a passenger in the row behind me. They’re taking his temperature, checking his blood pressure and so on. He’s clearly not in a good way. Without wanting to be *too* much of a twat about it, they’re also sitting right where I need to be to get into the overhead locker. I stand, waiting patiently - ultimately for upwards of 30 minutes. By this point, 42C (for that’s his seat…) has an oxygen mask. I begin to wonder whether we’re going to need to divert, or return to Dubai….Weiterlesen
ReisenderJust reading the destinations you would like to visit in the future - my boss was very well travelled and said Myanmar was almost certainly one of his favourites. X
Day 16 - Home. Reflections...
17. Mai 2024 in England ⋅ ☁️ 19 °C
Day 16 - Home. Reflections…
15:30
The dinner service is blissfully rapid, and an hour into the flight, I’m donning my headphones and eye-mask to catch some snooze. I sleep for a shade under 5 hours, which is a decent result. I’m in a Premium Economy seat, and the extra legroom makes such a difference to my sleeping chances.
We’re actually early landing into Heathrow. The Atlantic jet stream has helped us along, without some of the crazy turbulence I’ve experienced in the past on flights back from the US. We pull up to a remote stand at 13:45. Getting through T3 is a breeze. There’s zero queue at passport control, and my bags are already on the carousel when I get into baggage reclaim. I meet Andy at 14:10, and we’re on the road moments later.
A few reflections on my time in the US…
1) I adore road trips. Some of the journey times would, I suspect, have been more than Vicki would have wanted to bear, but I was quite comfortable spending 7 hours in the car on some days. My decision largely to avoid interstates was a good one, and I got to see so much more of the states through which I travelled than I would have done on the freeway.
2) Southern hospitality is a thing. Everywhere I travelled in the South I was greeted with open arms - figuratively (and literally on one occasion). All of the folks I met were kind, warm-hearted and welcoming.
It’s very easy to eat well across the US. It’s easy to eat badly, if that’s your thing, but the quality of food in diners, bars and restaurants is brilliantly high.
3) Prices in those places vary massively. The cheapest diner breakfast (eggs, toast, hash browns) I ate was around $6. The most expensive around $16.
4) I am declaring a volte face on Florida. My preconceptions of the state have largely been based on theme parks vacation spots around Orlando, and the questionable politics of the state’s Governor. Miami is a brilliant city, and I can’t wait to go back. The Everglades are a stunningly beautiful ecosystem, the Keys are wonderful, and I even enjoyed the slightly hicksville ambience of Polk County…
5) At no point did I feel unsafe, I suspect in part because my route avoided major cities (Nashville and Miami aside).
6),Getting your Sativa and Indica vapes mixed up is not aa great idea.
That’s all for now. Thanks for reading. I’ll be back in 3 weeks for some more Thailand, a dollop of Cambodia, and just a little pinch of Singapore.Weiterlesen
Day 15 - This is a land of confusion
16. Mai 2024 in den USA ⋅ ☀️ 30 °C
20:30
I wake up after a good sleep, but with a slightly groggy head. I challenged myself to empty the fridge before bed, which meant the last beer, and a couple of glasses of wine. I pack for the final time - which means actually getting stuff into my suitcase. One of the things I most enjoy about road trips is having a car in which to dump carrier bags and the like, rather than having to fully pack my suitcase each and every time I’m moving on. I’ve had a black rubbish sack for dirty clothes, a green fabric shopping bag from Sri Lanka for clothes that are worn, but out of which I can probably eke at least one more wear, and a blue Whole Foods bag from Las Vegas that has been the carrier of my booze’n’food along the way. Not this time - everything’s got to go back into my hold luggage. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but goes in happily enough.
I’m still not really sure what to do with myself today. I’m erring on the side of heading up to Miami in good time, dumping the car and my bags, then heading into the city for some beers and food. First, I head further along the northern Keys, stopping at a beautiful little state park named for John Pennekamp. No? Me neither. It’s very pretty though, and I spend a relaxing half hour wandering around the coast line. I try to get to Angelfish Cay, to take a picture of it for Karin, but am denied by a closed road. I stop for a late breakfast at a very cool little café called The Hide Out, and then get on the road North for Miami.
I’ve been assiduously avoiding tolls while I’ve been in the US - not a cost management strategy, but because I’ve been genuinely unsure how to pay for the toll roads, in a world of automated / electronic gates. I decide to finally read the materials I was given when renting the car, and it turns out there’s a very simple way - there’s a transponder on the windscreen, which I basically need to, well - turn on. This cuts my journey time to Miami in half. My flight isn’t until 23:30 tonight, so I’ve got a bunch of time to kill.
Approaching the city, I see signs for an Outlet Mall, which includes a Columbia store. For those unfamiliar, Columbia is an outdoors / activewear brand - think North Face, and you’re not a million miles away. I’ve been on the lookout for some ultra light/quick dry shorts and zip-off trousers for a while now, and if the prices are decent, this could be a godsend. I’m not 100% convinced I have room in my luggage, but let’s worry about that later. The discounts are immense. A pair of Columbia convertible trousers in the UK would cost me close to £100. Here, I pick up 3 pairs for $30 each. Their lightweight shorts would be £60 at home. Here, $20 per pair. I walk out with close to £500 worth of clothes for £140. I then buy a small duffel bag to pack them in, and I’m still ahead by £300.
Pleased with my endeavour - because it’s saved me a ton of cash, and because it’s consumed an hour of my boring waiting time, I reward myself with a visit to ‘World of Beer’ a sports bar a few miles from the airport. I have a pint of Voodoo Ranger, and some loaded tots.
I arrive at the car hire return garage at 15:00. During my stop at WOB (that’s what they call themselves) I’ve realised there’s a Virgin flight leaving at 18:45. Now - bear with me for a moment. When I originally booked my flights to Dulles / out of Miami, my return flight departed at 19:00, arriving into Heathrow around 09:00 on Friday morning. Months back, I got an email from Virgin saying my flight had been changed, and was now a 23:35 departure. Meh, but ok. these things happen. I now find that there’s a flight leaving at almost exactly the same time as my original booking, which I’d much rather have been on. All my flights on this trip are freebies, so I shouldn’t complain *too* loudly, but I’m at least going to head to the ticket office / check-in desk, and see if there’s a chance I can get on the earlier flight.
Nope. No chance. The 18:45 flight is actually over-booked, so zero possibility of me blagging my way onto it. The check-in attendant says my later flight is very close to full. It’s clearly a busy route for Virgin. She does, however, offer to check-in my bags, even though my flight’s not for 8 hours. I accept - somewhat foolishly as it turns out, as I check in the duffel bag with my new purchases, which ALSO has my hoodie, and trouser legs. Hopefully, the plane won’t be too cold.
So - I’ve got 7 hours at Miami airport, a decent whack of funds, and a small notion that I shouldn’t just sit in a bar (many bars) and get hammered. My first port of call is a bar - this does not bode well. They have a beer called Dogfish Head 90. I’ve got previous with this beer. When I went to California for a work conference in 2015, it’s the beer that I thought lovely, until I’d had 7 of them. Then, when going to leave, I fell off my chair. Only in hindsight did I discover that the ’90’ refers to the ABV, which is 9%. Ever since, I’ve considered that the 90 stands for how many minutes it takes to get you broadly pissed. It was a very strange day. The conference was at Disneyland in Anaheim. Stumbling around like the pissed idiot I was, I bumped into Goofy, and then Minnie Mouse. They were all very kind. I was also gifted my beers by a lovely couple from Minnesota, who had joined me, sitting at the bar. When I told them it was my birthday (which it really was), they secretly paid my drinks bill. That was around 15:00 on the Sunday afternoon. I went back to my room for a ‘rest’ and woke up at 07:00 on Monday morning, just in time for the conference to start.
Anyhoo… I’m very well behaved, and have just one of these sneaky little buggers, then sit for a while and catch up on some tablet TV. It’s pushing 18:30 now, so decide it’s probably ok to head through security, having confirmed that my plane is inbound, and due to land soon. The security checkpoint promises a 15-19 minute wait. This is pure bullshit. I realise that as soon as I arrive to the queue. There are 3 of the brand new, 3D scanners available - meaning no need to remove shoes, remove liquids, electronics - but the TSA team responsible for processing passengers have only got 1 of them open. As a result, the queue moves incredibly slowly. At one point, a group of 3 ask if they can move in front of me, because their flight departure time is rapidly approaching. I huff and puff, look at my watch - but let’s face it, my plane leaves in 5 hours, so it’s very little skin off my nose. They repeat this process with 5-6 more people, then hit old grumpy bollocks. An elderly gent (75? 80?) vociferously points out that he arrived to the airport in plenty of time, and maybe they should next time too. I struggle to internalise a chortle. The untrepid explorers flag down a TSA womble, who says he can’t help, and it’s really up to the other customers if they’re allowed through or not.
Finally through, I head for the nearest bar/restaurant. It’s 19:30. Time is advancing. I sit down, order a beer, and am immediately told the bar closes at 20:00. WTAF? Checking the airport’s website, it transpires that NONE of their hostelries are open past 22:00. My flight doesn’t even begin boarding until 23:00. I’m going to have to work this out incredibly carefully… This bar has more of the Dogfish Head 90 on tap. I treat myself to a couple, before they sling me out. Ceremoniously - if that’s even a thing.
Near my gate there’s a ‘Corona Beach House’ which is at least open until 22:00. I um and ah - Corona is a long way from my favourite beer, but needs must. I grab a seat at the bar, and - joy! They have a wine list, a cocktail menu, and more of that Dogfish Head 90. I decline the beer - I feel a bit full anyway. Mojito please! Oooh, and then a Stormy Daniels. No, that’s not right. A Dark and Stormy. Yes, that’s more like it.
21:50
More Dark and Stormy please.
22:35
This is one of the things I adore about US airports. I spend a brilliant half hour chatting to… Nope. Can’t remember his name. He’s from Canada, but lives in Miami. He’s on his way home to Toronto, and gives me some great advice about stuff to do in Toronto itself, in Manitoba, in Vancouver when I/we finally get there. We both spend a little while marvelling at the upwards filled pints (see video), which is one of the coolest things I think I’ve ever seen.
He (nameless) has to leave t get his flight. That’s fine. I can keep myself company with my Darks and Stormies. I’m just settling into my book, when the next guy along the guy interrupts me. He’s Walker - a 22 year old who’s on his way to Brazil for a month. He’s that rarity in the US - a youngster who actually want’s to leave the country. I buy him a beer, he buys me a D+S, and we talk about the evils of capitalism. I’m both jealous of his trip, and excited to steal some ideas for my, Vicki and Tam’s trip later this year. I ask him, as I seem incapable of not doing, of his voting intentions in November. He was pissed off not to be old enough last time around. He’s gay, and should feel like a Democrat vote is his only tangible option. I’m concerned to hear that this politically active kid is barely interested in the election, due largely to Biden’s:
1) age
2) senility
3) luke warm position on traditionally Democrat views
If the Dems can’t pick up this kid to vote for them, they might just be fucked.
The bar kicks us out as advertised at 22:00. I hug Walker goodbye, and head round to the departure gate. Hey - at least it’s air-conditioned.
23:55
Boarded, and furnished with my glass of bubbles. I’m determined to sleep for as long as I possibly can. But I’m also hungry, and want some food.
QUANDARIES.Weiterlesen
Day 14 - Livin’ on Key West Time
15. Mai 2024 in den USA ⋅ ☁️ 29 °C
17:00
I’m sad to leave my little enclave in Homestead. It’s such a blissful and chilled out place to spend time. Onwards though, to the Keys. I’d be lying if I said I really knew anything about the Keys, except that it’s where a lot of the South American drugs bound for the US are landed, and there’s a lot of fishing to be done there. I’m up in good time, and on the road by 08:30. I decide to head straight down to Key West, at the very tip of the Keys archipelago, and home to the southernmost point of the continental United States.
The traffic’s a little clunky getting out of Homestead and Florida City, but after a few miles, I’m into an easy, fast cruise. It’s about 150 miles, all the way along the venerable US Highway 1 - the 2,370 mile road that runs the entire length of the eastern seaboard of the US. It’s been my constant companion for the past week, and ends at Key West. There’s nothing standout about the drive, but that doesn’t detract from my enjoyment of it. The Keys are a bustling community, and I spend a great couple of hours watching the world go by as I cruise on by. ‘Towns’ here are really just collections of buildings alongside the highway, intersected by giant road bridges between the islands. I won’t pretend that I’m not slightly entranced by it. Even the Sat Nav keeps me entertained - there's something strangely hypnotic seeing the road on which you're travelling stretch for miles, but with only water on either side of you. Likewise, the view of the road bridges stretching out for miles in front of the car is unfamiliar, but inviting.
Arriving into Key West, I’m both hungry and thirsty. There’s a seafood place called Eaton’s Seafood Market that I’ve read good things about, so head there for some lunch, and a massively needed beer. They deliver on both fronts. I have a crab-cake sandwich, some stellar onion rings, and a quite pokey hazy IPA that gives me just a little bit of a a haze.
Key West is an interesting town. My good friend Jolene has described it as ‘New Orleans but with old people.’ I’ve not been to New Orleans, but somehow understand exactly what she means. I suspect in the height of Summer, and over a weekend, this place is a wild ride. Here and now, before the Summer season really kicks off, it’s a slightly circumspect experience. There are countless golf buggies on the roads, and I've seen several hire shops around the town. I can't believe the DUI rules are any different to driving a standard car or truck, so I'm not entirely sure what the point is. This is what Google's for. *HOLD PLEASE CALLER*
Ah, ok - so it's partly because a lot of the roads in Key West are quite narrow (to which I can attest) and that parking is limited (to which I can also attest), ergo - golf buggies.
I set off to find the southernmost point of the USA, and find…. a queue. There are about 50 people queueing to take a picture next to the monument. I mean - I guess it’s a thing if you’re not from here, but I enjoy taking pictures of the people taking pictures. There are a couple of other places I’d wanted to check out while I was in town, but there are reports of rain-storms coming in later, and I don’t particularly fancy a long drive in the rain, so set off for Key Largo. I meet some rain, but it’s hardly a patch on the torrential experiences I had back in Virginia (which feels like an eon ago, by the way) and by the time I’m arriving into Key Largo, it’s sunshine all the way.
I find my accommodation easily enough, and am pleasantly surprised. I’ve got a large, one bedroom apartment, with a balcony overlooking the marina. It’s lovely. I settle down with a much deserved glass of wine, and take the load off.
21:00
I head out around 18:00, conscious that I’ve not eaten much today, and have limited supplies at my apartment. Bizarrely / irritatingly, the place I want to get to is 20m from my apartment. It is, however, on the other side of the Marina, and there’s no obvious bridge across which to pass. I briefly consider swimming across, but end up walking the long way around, which is c. 20 minutes. It’s still hot, even though the sun is kissing the horizon. I arrive somewhat sweaty, and urgently in need of a beer. The beer is quickly sorted. I’ve no idea what it is, beyond a very pleasant IPA. I order another, and perhaps a third. The menu deserves a peruse, so I indulge it. There’s a cracking sounding grouper special, so I jump in. It’s fab. Grouper is redolent of cod, but with more flavour, and better texture. I very fondly remember having ‘grouper fingers’ in the Bahamas about 35 years ago, which my Dad rechristened groper fingers - obvs. These days they’d be called grouper goujons, and be thrice as expensive. The fourth beer is the one that really hits the spot.
I briefly consider popping to the downstairs bar, where there’s some half decent live music playing, but am conscious that I’m jaded, and rapidly approaching refreshed. I check the IPA details on the way out. It’s an 8.2% whopper. Of course it is. I walk (rather than stumble) back to my apartment, which is deliciously frosty, and grab a beer from the fridge, the last of the six pack I bought on about day 2 of my trip. My only fixed plan tomorrow is to be at Miami Airport by 18:00, and the airport’s only a couple of hours away…Weiterlesen
Reisender
Can just picture you roaring along the bridge, singing your lil heart out to Lady Gaga.
Day 13 - See ya later, alligator
14. Mai 2024 in den USA ⋅ ☀️ 30 °C
19:30
I’m awake at 04:45. I was asleep fairly early last night, so it’s no surprise. I feel like I’ve slept well, and have more than enough time for a nap later if the urge takes me. I head out for some breakfast, to a Puerto Rican place. Huevos Rancheros with Tostones and Refried Beans. It’s banging. The tostones are a revelation. They’re made from green plantain, grated, and then fried like a hash-brown. Delicious. The refried beans are also awesome. I think most folks in the UK think of these as bland, stodgy goop. These are anything but. Texture, bite, tons of flavour.
I head North about 30 miles to Coopertown for an airboat ride through the Everglades. It’s only 10:00 when the boat sets off, but the sun is already hot., so much so that I’ve covered myself in SPF50 for the ride. The noise of the airboat is really something. The best way I can describe it is like a hovercraft without the inflatable skirt. We move through the wetlands at close to 50mph, and as low down to the water as we are, it feels every bit of it. Our boat pilot, John, stops occasionally to talk us through this incredible habitat. I’m surprised to learn that the Everglades is neither swamp, nor (strictly speaking) a wetlands, but rather the slowest moving river in the world, flowing at around 1/2 mile per day. It’s a vibrant ecosystem, teeming with wildlife. Alligators are the star attraction, but there are interesting species of fish, birds, turtles and terrapins, otters, bears, panthers… I mean - we see very little of it at 50mph, but we’re assured it’s there…
We do spot a ‘gator during the trip. He’s a big guy, around 4m long. We try not to disturb him, but he turns, and starts swimming towards the boat - right around the time John is telling us that the alligators can climb into the boat if they wish. I involuntarily flinch. The ‘gator decides against it though, and swims away from us. He’s a gnarly looking creature. Certainly wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him. This will sound weird though. They don’t have *quite* the same evil look as crocodiles. I suspect I’d lose a fight against either, but crocs just look at you like they can see you naked, on a spit-roast, over a BBQ. Alligators look to me to be slightly more benign. The only way I can rationalise this (bear with me, I’ve given this quite a lot of thought) is that alligators’ teeth have evolved to settle into their upper and lower jaws when their mouth is closed. Crocodiles’ teeth have not - they stick out of the mouth when the mouth is closed. I think it’s the lack of overt teeth that makes the alligator seem like the kind of cuddly, misunderstood teddy-bear that I’ve somehow forced myself to believe.
It’s 11:00 by the time I get back on the road, and I head South West to Flamingo, a tiny community at the very southern tip of the main Florida peninsula. The drive through the Everglades is quite hypnotic - long, straight roads, and at one point I don’t see another car for 45 minutes. I stop to walk a couple of short trails along the way. I’m hopeful of seeing some more wildlife, but am cruelly denied. The ecosystem is beautiful to look at, but I’d have liked to have encountered a few more species.
I have a wander around Flamingo, and grab a very decent Cuban sandwich for lunch, along with a much needed beer. The restaurant is part of a new development, with lodging. I suspect (hope) it’s only recently opened, as I’m the only customer when I arrive. An additional 3 people arrive while I’m there. It’s hardly buzzing. Memorial Day weekend is coming up in a couple of weeks, so hopefully they’ve got a bit more business coming their way soon.
My sandwich and beer have left me sleepy. It’s an easy cruise back to my AirBnB, where a nap beckons. I wake up at 17:00 - but only just. I could quite happily have slept on. I decide that a dip in the hot-tub will help wake me up. It does. I briefly consider going out into Homestead, but decide to take it easy this evening. I’ve got beers and wine to finish before I fly home on Thursday, and they won’t drink themselves…Weiterlesen
Day 12 - Down in the Everglades
13. Mai 2024 in den USA ⋅ ☁️ 33 °C
16:30
I wake up around 08:00, having had a brilliant sleep. Definitely for the best to have a quiet day yesterday. By 09:30, I’m packed, on the road, and heading due West out of Miami. This morning’s drive will fully take me from the Atlantic over to the Gulf of Mexico. The drive is a fast, straight one. I count perhaps 3 slight curves to the road in 2 hours and 120 miles - other than that, arrow straight.
I arrive into Naples, and head South along the coast, arriving into a tiny place called Goodland around midday. It has a bar/restaurant, a bait shop, and that’s about it. I decide my stomach is up to being fed, so park up and head into the bar. A pint of an American Pale Ale (APA) called Reef Donkey to whet my whistle, and a Mahi Mahi sandwich. The beer’s excellent, and the sandwich even better. I’ve had Mahi Mahi before, but it’s never been this good. The fish is blackened with Cajun spices, and hard grilled. It’s delicious - incredibly moist, incredibly tasty. Critically, it ‘settles’ well in my stomach. I spend a fun half hour chatting to some of the bar regulars. I genuinely think this might be a hangout for retired wise guys. There are regular references to ‘Jimmy the Fish,’ who sounds calamitous at best. They also talk about someone called ‘Tough Tony’ who I *think* has recently died. They all sound like they’re from the Bronx, and they’re all getting very excited watching a Yankee game on the TV. Mindful that I might get whacked if I’m not careful, I settle my bill, and scarper.
The drive back East is fairly uneventful. I’m staying in a town called Homestead, about 30 miles South West of Miami, about 90 minutes drive from Goodland. I stop along the way to see what is claimed to be the smallest Post Office in the USA. It’s smaller than the garden shed I had in Crawley, so I can believe this to be true. I stop at the hugely misleading Shark Valley, where there are no sharks. I take a short walk along the the Shark Valley loop, but quickly realise the sun is properly hot. It’s a 15 mile loop, so I suspect I’d not quite make it all the way round before expiring. There’s a tram tour, but not for another 2 hours. I’ll come back tomorrow…
I arrive into Homestead around 15:45. My AirBnB is AWESOME. A really lovely space, and very considerately appointed by the owners. I’d stay here and write more, but the room has a hot-tub, and it’s calling to me… I shall repair there, along with a glass of the fab red wine the hosts have given me. Catch up tomorrow…Weiterlesen
Day 11 - Brown Town : Population, 1
12. Mai 2024 in den USA ⋅ ☀️ 28 °C
21:00
My day starts well. I’m up in decent time, and head out around 08:00, heading to South Beach. The drive over to the beach is pretty spectacular. The road bridges around this part of Florida are wild, spanning, in some cases, miles and miles of roadway right down by the water. This one’s a couple of miles long, and deposits me into the heart of the Bay Harbour Islands. I park up, and find a great diner for breakfast. It’s a proper Airstream trailer place, and has tons of character. The breakfast is awesome as well.
After breakfast, I head for the beach. The sand is such a bright white, and incredibly fine. Vicks sent me a picture of Brighton Beach yesterday, and the difference in underfoot conditions couldn’t be greater. I spot an absolutely pristine 2nd Gen Pontiac Firebird. If you’ve seen Smokey and the Bandit, you’re in the right territory. The Art Deco architecture is beautiful, and the streets are bursting with bars and restaurants. It’s supposed to be quite a sight at night, but I’ll save that for a trip back to Miami with Vicki.
I head back to my apartment to drop off the car, ahead of going to a baseball game. I don’t feel great though. A quick trip to the bathroom (and I do mean quick…) is required, and it appears the brown rains have arrived. Immediately, I put it down to something I’ve eaten, but Vicki sensibly points out that I’ve spent a LOT of time in the sun/heat over the past couple of days, and both days have been quite boozy. Her lucid explanation makes quite a lot of sense. I sack off the baseball game, not feeling quite confident enough to leave the safety blanket of a cold room, and a close toilet. I’d also planned to see Dre, along with his other half, Maria, and his three sons later this afternoon, but decide against this in as:
a) I feel pretty rubbish, and
b) I don’t want to take a chance that I might have picked up a bug along the way
I sleep for a good 3 hours in the afternoon, and wake up feeling, if not better, then at least a little less shocking.
I spend the evening watching movies and chilling out. I’ve been on the road, and pretty manic for the past 10 days, so maybe I just need a slow day, and a bit of a rest.
Around 21:30, I decide to head back to snooze, and hope I’m not awake before dawn…Weiterlesen
Day 10 - Miami Vices
11. Mai 2024 in den USA ⋅ ☀️ 26 °C
23:30
It’s been a long, but fruitful day.
I’m on the road before 08:00, headed East towards the Atlantic coast. I swing by Spook Hill - a gravity hill, that makes it appear that your car is rolling uphill. It’s an optical illusion, but still kinda weird to get your head around.
My first pit-stop is nearly 3 hours down the road, but worth the journey/detour. Morikami is a beautiful Japanese garden, a couple of miles inland from the coast. It’s incredibly serene, and I spend a hugely enjoyable hour or so, just ambling around the different garden sections. I see a giant terrajeff, happily swimming in one of the several lakes. There’s a bonsai exhibition, with some spectacular specimens, some of which are over 100 years old. The sun’s beating down, but there are plenty of shady spots to keep out of it.
I’m only about 50 miles North of Miami, but have another few hours in the car. Traffic is heavy for a Saturday afternoon. I head for Hollywood Beach, just South of Fort Lauderdale, The mercury’s nudging 38C, so instead of walking up and down the sunbaked boardwalk, I stop in a beachfront café for a couple of tacos, and an ultra cold beer. In the space of 5 minutes, I see 3 of the most pneumatically enhanced women I think I’ve ever seen. Honestly - the chest on one of them looks like it must require regular topping up with a bicycle pump.
I continue South, into Miami. The drive into the city centre feels familiar, despite my never having been here. I attribute this to the many TV shows I’ve watched that are based in the city. My AirBnB is in South Miami, in Little Havana. I find it easily enough. The room’s great - part of a Cuban casita. Everything I need, nothing I don’t. I freshen up and head out for a drink. I’m meeting my buddy Dré at 19:00, and figure I should be able to find a decent Mojito to keep me company.
I happen upon a Cuban bar called Guantanamera. Heading inside, I’m a little shocked to encounter thick clouds of cigar smoke. I’d thought/assumed that smoking of any kind indoors would be verboten anywhere in the US. Apparently not. These guys sell cigars - though not Cuban, due to the US’s ongoing trade embargo with Cuba. I’ve never enjoyed smoking cigars, but have always found the smell of the strangely comforting. I order a Mojito , fairly quickly followed by another Mojito. They’re very moreish. A band strikes up, and the tiny dance floor is quickly filled with some very enthusiastic folks throwing groovy shapes.
I meet Dré at Café La Trova, a fab Cuban restaurant in the heart of Little Havana. Over a couple more Mojitos, we catch up, and enjoy some ceviché, salt cod fritters and Cuban style beef sandwiches. Banging. After a quick amble in the cooling evening, we end up back at Guantanamera for more Mojitos. There’s live music, some interesting outfits, cigar smoking, some kind of DJ - it’s all really rather fun. I stop counting the Mojitos at 6, or was it 7?Weiterlesen
Day 9 - St Pete’s
10. Mai 2024 in den USA ⋅ 🌙 27 °C
22:30
I wake up after a good sleep, but with a strange, empty feeling. This morning is the memorial service for Micky. Em’s organised a livestream from the cathedral, and whilst I’m glad to be able to join the service, I’m feeling incredibly lonely, and distant. The service is at 10:00 local time. It’s a beautiful send off for a wonderful, wonderful man. The music is stirring, the singing rousing, the dedications heartfelt and heart-breaking. I treat myself to a glass of wine to accompany the service, and spend most of the 90 minutes in tears. I’m glad to have been a part of it - even from 4,000 miles away, but fuck - that was tough.
I’m not entirely in the mood for fun and frolics, but if anyone can lift me from this darkness, it’s Andy. We set off for St Petersburg, a 90 minute drive over to the West Coast. It’s a bit of an enclave in Florida - lots of art, cool places to eat, microbreweries, and a vibrant LGBTQ+ community. We start with a well deserved beer at 3 Daughters brewing, with a couple of great tacos to line the stomach. We then march (womble is probably closer to it) around the neighbourhood, taking in some of the great mural work that’s part of an annual street art festival. Some of it’s absolutely brilliant. It’s properly hot today - 37c, and so we must make regular pitstops to keep ourselves hydrated / topped up with beer.
Around 16:00, we head into downtown St Pete’s, and take a walk around the central neighbourhoods. The streets are busy with Friday afternoon revelry. Bars with seating spilling out onto the streets, restaurants that put out a brilliant smell as we walk past them. It’s still banging hot though, so we seek refuge in a ‘pour it yourself’ beer hall. They have c. 40 beers on tap. You don a wristband, which you wave at the beer pump you want, then pour as much as you want. It’s a great concept - similar to a wine place I tried in London a few years back. The beers we try are all excellent, and it’s a really fun way to try beers that you otherwise might avoid.
It’s 18:20, and we should probably head back to Auburndale. We navigate (Andy navigates) the Friday night rush hour traffic on the interstate. It’s reassuring to see that there are just as many (if not more) dickheads in Friday rush hour on US roads than the UK. Back in Auburndale, we head to a brewpub called the Crave and Copper for some food. It’s excellent - sort of high end pub grub / junk food. Brilliant loaded tater tots, some awesome chicken wings, a smoked fish dip that is better than it deserves to be. The only slight let down is Andy’s shrimp and grits, which doesn’t hold a candle to the versions I’ve tried on this trip so far.
I call it a night around 21:45. It’s been a long, and heavily emotional day, and I just want to curl up in a ball and sleep…Weiterlesen
Day 8 - Floridays
9. Mai 2024 in den USA ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C
16:30
I have a decent sleep, and wake up feeling fairly refreshed. I don’t have much of a plan today. Will just see where the day takes me. I set off in the general direction of Florida - South by South-East, and arrive into Nashville about a half hour later. It’s a very different Nashville. I have breakfast in an all but empty diner, and another waitress tells me how much she loves my accent. When I walk back to my car, it’s surrounded by police. Well - that’s a bit of an exaggeration. Two police officers and a Sheriff are stood by it, one of whom looks a little like he’s writing me a ticket. I wish them a good morning, and go to get in my car. One of them says, “Hey buddy - you ain’t from round here, huh?” I confirm that I’m not, get in the car, and high-tail it outta town.
I continue in the general direction of Florida. I’m conscious that roads down which I’m travelling are of the long and straight variety. It’s a little soporific. I chuck on the lane assist setting, and fire up the cruise control, and take the opportunity to look around me. The scenery is changing. Gone are the lush pastures of Kentucky and Tennessee. Southern Georgia (and then Northern Florida, when I get there) are drier and more arid.
I arrive into Gainesville, a mid-sized Floridian city around 11:30, and pause to stretch my legs. The sun’s really starting to heat up - around 32C by midday. After a modest mooch, I get back on the road. I’ve got at least another 3 hours down to Auburndale. As I’m pulling into Inverness (!) I realise I’m pretty peckish, so check GoogleMaps for decent lunch spots nearby - finding a lakeside pub. It’s hot, but pleasantly so, and so I sit in the garden. I can’t help but think back to our recent time in Thailand, and the discomfort we’d have experienced if trying to do the same. Jennifer tells me today’s specials, which include a shrimp and sausage gumbo, which sounds perfect. She asks if I want a cup or a bowl. Bowl please. What emerges is what you and I would call a cauldron. It’s vast. The Brit in me won’t let me lave any though, so I plough my way through it. Slowly. It leaves me feeling like a nap, but onwards I must go…
The afternoon consists of more long, straight roads, which aren’t particularly memorable. I arrive into Auburndale just after 16:00, and check into my AirBnB for the next couple of nights. The views over the pool to the lake are really something. The combination of a big lunch and boring roads have left their mark though, and I feel like I’ve earnt an urgent nap.
22:30
My nap is super-deluxe. Nearly two hours, but I wake up feeling refreshed. I’m meeting our good friend Andy later. He’s been in the US for the past 6-7 years, so we see much less of him than we’d like. Hanging out this evening and tomorrow is real treat.
We head to what Andy describes as ‘A typical Polk County bar,’ and I don’t think he’s being kind. We sit outside on the deck, catching up over a couple of beers, and some Gator bites (think fried chicken, but…) which are delicious. As the sun sets, we’re getting eaten alive by mossies though, so move inside. We make plans to meet around midday tomorrow, to go somewhere called ‘St Pete’ - about which I have no idea, but Andy seems excited, so I am too.Weiterlesen
Day 7 - Georgia, on my mind...
8. Mai 2024 in den USA ⋅ ☀️ 29 °C
06:00
Wow. Guess I needed the sleep. I wake up a few times during the night, but essentially sleep through till 05:30, and a total of 10.5 hours of sleep. I feel massively refreshed as a result. SOLID.
There’s another supposedly stellar BBQ place near the place I’m staying in Georgia. Let’s hope I can stay awake for this one.
I’m only 30 miles from Atlanta here in Gadsden, but I’m headed towards the Talladega Forest this morning, before heading South East into Georgia, via Columbus. It’s all back roads, and small towns. Looking forward to it.
20:00
I’ve had a great, if slightly confusing day on the road today. From Gadsden, I head to a town called Oxford, about 30 miles South. It’s exactly the picture postcard expectation of small town southern USA. I grab some breakfast, then set-off into the countryside, aiming for the Talladega Scenic Highway, in Cheaha State Park. The views across the southern end of the Appalachian Mountain chain are really quite something. It’s a lovely drive through the forest, and I do get a little lost, when I miss a tiny turn-off.
I set off on a fast cruise towards Columbus, a mid-sized town that’s just over the border into Georgia - and on Eastern time. I stop in at a very cool little bar/bistro called The Black Cow. They claim to have the best burger in the South, and I can’t disagree. It’s banging. I have a lovely chat with Felicia who’s working behind the bar. She asks me what I think of America and Americans. I sense a trap. I give a slightly circumspect response about there being great places and not so great places, great people and not so great people, and also mention that I think the election in November is pivotal for the country. “Fuck Trump” is what I get back in response - which I wasn’t entirely expecting.
After lunch, I aim for something I’ve read about - the Drive Thru Museum. It’s back in Alabama though, so on Central Time. I don’t know how folks living right on the timezone border cope with the constant changes. I’d be late for work every day - if I actually worked. I’m entirely unclear whether where I’m aiming for is a museum about the drive thru, or a museum through which one drives. It turns out to be the latter. It’s absolutely crackers. There are 5-6 shipping containers, painted red, and filled with the weirdest collection of displays I could have imagined. I’m not sure it’s really a museum, as much a collection of utterly bizarre, but quite cool tat. It’s a wonderful slice of strange.
I’ve a 2.5 hour / 140 mile cruise through the Alabama and Georgia countryside to reach Tifton, my overnight stop. I’ve had a request to write some words for Micky’s eulogy. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I spend a good chunk of this drive reminiscing about how we met, the time we spent together, and how much I miss him. My playlist for the drive is a nod towards him as well, featuring many of the artists he introduced me to over the years. When I stop for gas, I get a bit of a look from the cashier. It’s only when I get back in the car that I realise my eyes are a deep red, and my cheeks are tear stained.
Having missed out on my BBQ last night, I make sure I get out in Tifton to a little BBQ spot called Pit-stop. I have a combo plate of some sensational ribs, and some very good (but not the best I’ve ever had) brisket, along with an unsweetened ice tea. A fair few restaurants in the South don’t have a liquor licence - though I’m unsure whether this is by design or default. I’m a convert to good iced-tea, though I hope the caffeine doesn’t bite me later. From tomorrow night, I have actual evening plans for the next few days, so it would be great if I was actually able to stay awake past 21:00. I’m *hoping* a little touch of caffeine will help me stay awake till a more reasonable bedtime, without robbing me of the ability to sleep. It’s 20:00, and I’m not narcoleptic yet. Fingers crossed, touch wood etc etc…Weiterlesen
Day 6 - Sweet home, Alabama
8. Mai 2024 in den USA ⋅ ☀️ 21 °C
16:30
There’s a hell of a thunderstorm overnight. It wakes me at 02:30. It’s cool to watch and listen to for a while, but I’m more than a little pissed off when I can’t get back to sleep. I spend a couple of hours trying, but nah - not happening. This is slightly disheartening. I get up at 05:30, piss around for a while, then get showered and packed up. I’m a little concerned I’ll feel properly knackered on the road later, so the earlier I can get to Gadsden, the better.
I swing by the world-famous Bluebird Café, a real institution of the Nashville music scene. I promise myself I’ll come back here with Vicks and make it to a gig. I then head pretty much due East. In the space of 45 minutes, I pass through Lebanon, Carthage, and Sparta. Later in the day, I spot Antioch. Some serious Middle Eastern / mythological shit going on around here. I stop in Cookesville for an early breakfast, at yet another slightly strange backwater diner. My breakfast is a little more traditional than yesterday’s, MUCH lighter, and very tasty. On the way out of Cookesville, I drive past a pink elephant - as you do.
I’m off the highway today, and heading to the far South East corner of Tennessee, and the city of Chattanooga. The drive is spectacular - such wonderful scenery. Anyone that tells you the UK has the lushest, greenest countryside in the world, is high. There are plush pastures here, rolling forests, farmland interspersed with beautiful waterways - it’s such a treat to womble through.
I get more than a little confused as I arrive into Chattanooga, as I appear to have lost an hour somewhere. It’s only when I stop that I discover that Tennessee actually spans two timezones. I discover that there are 13 states that span two timezones, including Florida, where I’m ultimately headed. I shall be on my guard. As a result of this timewarp, it’s time for lunch. I stop into Puckett’s, a bit of a Chattanooga landmark, and have my second shrimp and grits of my trip. It’s amazing. I really need to figure out how to recreate this dish at home - I suspect using polenta. After lunch, I have a little wander around the town centre, which has that folksy, small-town feel to it.
Back on the road, I’m heading through more countryside into Alabama. I’m slightly surprised when I quickly go past a sign welcoming me to Georgia, but go with it. It’s about 100 miles down to Gadsden, and takes around 2 hours. It’s yet more of a delicious backdrop to drive past. I marvel at some of the tin-can construction of the houses alongside the road. From the little I see of it, Georgia’s pretty as a picture.
At one point, I drive over some roadkill, which on closer inspection transpires to be a skunk. A strong smell fills the car. It’s not pleasant.
Pulling into Gadsden, it’s little more than a strip mall either side of the highway. There is, however, a BBQ place across the road from my diner, that’s supposed to be brilliant. I’m at a Red Roof Inn, a budget motel chain that’s found across the country. I’ve done pretty well with my accommodation options thus far, but my luck may have run out here. The room is a touch grubby, and has a slightly strange smell to it - a little musty. I mention this to the person at the front desk, who says all the rooms smell like that. (“Cain’t hep ya Sir, aw the rooms smell like thayat.”) I leave the door open to air the room out a little, and have a quick bifta, in the hope that it might rob me of my olfactory senses. Hold tight for feedback…
22:00
FFS. Put my head down for a hour’s nap at 18:30, and wake up at 21:30, having slept through my alarm. The BBQ place is shut, and I’m not sure I can be arsed to head out for anything. I read for a little while, but I can still feel my head is tired, so head back to bed in the hope that I’ll sleep until a reasonable hour.Weiterlesen
Day 5 - The Volunteer State
6. Mai 2024 in den USA ⋅ ☁️ 21 °C
15:45
Tough going on the road today. But first things, first. Can you guess what time I woke up? Can you? Correct - 05:00, on the button. Today’s my longest journey of the trip - topping out at just over 350 miles. It’s not raining though, which is a blessing. I’m on the road by 07:15, heading for a diner in the middle of nowhere which is broadly on my way to my first main stop of the day. As I join the main road headed South West, the heavens open - just utterly torrential rain. I can barely see 15m in front of the car, no matter how fast my wind-screen wipers are going, or how carefully I look for the lights of other cars. I briefly consider stopping until the worst of it passes, and then suddenly it does. Bright sunshine, with just a bit of spray from the road. I sigh. If this is anything to go by, it’s fixing to be a long day.
The diner is all kinds of awesome. It’s only a couple of miles drive away from the highway down which I’m driving, but feels like it’s in another century. I understand one word in about seven that the waitress utters. The diner is the size of a barn, but I’m the only customer. They’ve only been open for 10 minutes, so I hope they have a rush of customers a little later. I order a breakfast bowl, which transpires to be a biscuit (savoury scone) topped with scrambled egg, country sausage (think the patty from a Maccy D’s breakfast sausage muffin, but broken up into pieces), gravy (not gravy at all), and cheese. It’s actually pretty good, but a bit of a melange. When ordering, it took the waitress and I quite a while to figure out she was asking if I wanted potatoes, because I wasn’t quite understanding ‘taders.’ Still, it’s cheap, nourishing and tasty enough.
The next 2 hours of my drive are wonderful. I’m deep into Kentucky now, and set off on a meandering drive through farming country. I go almost 40 minutes without seeing another vehicle on the road. The farms are a mixture of dairy properties, and horse farms - this being just about the horsiest part of the US. There are a few light showers, but the rain largely keeps away.
After a shade over 2 hours, and just after 11, I arrive at the Buffalo Trace distillery. I’ve had their Bourbon before, but they have a range of other spirits to try. There’s a really good vodka, which tastes unlike any other I’ve tried before (good way, not bad way). There’s a 12 year old Bourbon which is sensational - prominent flavours of caramel, vanilla. There’s a rye whisky which is a pokey, fiery mouthful, but with smooth and smoke in equal parts.
I move on to my next pit-stop, which just happens to be another whisky distillery. This one’s on a much smaller scale with just a couple of copper stills. They offer me 5 whiskies to taste. I point out that I’m driving so need small measures. No problem, I’m told - they’ll pour light for me. I don’t know if they instantly forget this, or whether the ‘usual’ tasting pour is just monstrous, but I barely drink a quarter of what they pour me. It’s a crying shame, as the whiskies are fabulous. I have a lovely conversation with one of the folks that works at the distillery. We compare experiences of drinking whisky in the Highlands, she tells me that Kentucky is close to Scotland in terms of scenery (true) and climate (bullshit, but I don’t say so…) which is why a great many Scots and Irish people settled in Kentucky when they emigrated from Europe. I’d love to buy a bottle for the rest of my journey, but:
1) there’s no way I’d ever get through it all in the next 10 days, and
2) it’s pretty pricey stuff at $150 a bottle.
I’ve done way less than half my driving for today, so decide to get on the highway for a while to cut into the remaining distance. The heavens immediately open - it’s a barrage of water. Now, I’m not suggesting that I normally don’t concentrate when I’m driving, but there’s a sort of super-concentration level required in these sorts of conditions. It’s just knackering to be on edge the whole time. This time, it feels like the rain is setting in for an extended visit. After an hour, I need to take a break. Happily, this coincides with my passing by Kentucky Stonehenge. After being cruelly denied Foamhenge over the weekend, it’s gratifying to see this really rather shoddy tribute to the Salisbury version in all its soggy glory.
The rain lets up. I’ve got 140 miles to go to Nashville. Backroads will take me upwards of 3 hours, but the Interstate promises more like 2. I decide fast and boring today is better than slow and steady. The weather is squally - several torrential downpours, followed by periods of bright sunshine. I miss the State line between Kentucky and Tennessee, presumably during one of the many rain storms. Tennessee is the so-called ‘Volunteer State’ - and I’m a little disappointed to find this is because the state was renowned for its population volunteering for the USA’s 1812 war against the UK, rather than some tradition of selfless philanthropy…
As I arrive into Nashville, the rain buggers off completely, and I’m left with a beautifully warm, sunny afternoon. I stop in at the Grand Ole Opry House, perhaps the most famous of all of Nashville’s live music venues. I looked at whether there was a show on while I’m in town, but decided against it. I’m reliably informed that the downtown bars are where the best (and cheapest) music is most nights. I pull into my hotel at a little past 15:00. It’s really nice to get out of the car, and know that I’m not going to see it for 16 hours…
21:00
I head out from my hotel for a wander. The helpful person behind the reception desk tells me that there are bars galore, just a few minutes walk from us - most of which will have some kind of live music going on this evening. I set off, not with any particular destination in mind, and end up in a thoroughly cool little bar called The Row. They have about 15 different draft options, one of which is a locally brewed cider, that is awesome. Dry but fruity, light but punchy, bizarrely applely (not a real word). There’s a brief moment of confusion, when I realise that I’ve travelled far enough West to move into Central Time, gaining an hour. I stupidly haven’t left my phone on automatic time updates, so where I think it’s 18:00, it’s actually 17:00. I'll be ok tomorrow as Alabama is also on Central Time, but Wednesday could be fun, as I'll be playing jump rope with the time difference throughout the day.
The music is good. The first artist is a young (early 20s?) lady from Texas. She does decent covers of all sorts of genres, as well as a smattering of her own songs. Everything’s going REALLY well until her last song. It’s called, “Will you be my friend,” which sounds innocuous enough. She tells a story about when she first moved to Nashville, and she felt very lonely, that Jesus was her friend, and that if we all try really hard, he can perhaps be our friend too. Look - I know it’s some people’s thing, but it’s just so not mine that it jars a little.
5 ciders deep, I decide that some food is probably in order. I ask the barman what the most typically Nashville dish on the menu would be, and he points me towards a crumbed catfish plate, with okra. It’s better than I think it’s going to be. The okra is…. interesting? Lots of people object to the texture of it, citing it as slimy. No such problem here - it just tastes a little bland. The fish though, is awesome. Super crispy, very moist and flaky, and served with a piquant tartare sauce. YUM.
At least some of the rain has followed me down to Nashville. There’s a powerful rain storm while the music plays. The bar is open on two sides, and I find it really rather enchanting listening to ultra talented musicians while the rain hammers down.
The clock hits 20:00, and I realise that:
1) I’ve been up since before dawn, and
2) I’ve had no afternoon nap today
I’m pretty jaded. I brave the walk back to my hotel, and ready myself for what I hope will be a splendid sleep.Weiterlesen
Day 4 - Country roads, take me home...
5. Mai 2024 in den USA ⋅ ☁️ 21 °C
15:30
I’m awake (again) at 05:00, with a slightly fuzzy head. I read for an hour, catch up on some other travel plans, and check in with the home contingent. I’ve got a looooong day’s driving ahead of me, but there’s no real point in me getting on the road before 08:00. I’m heading across the entire breadth of West Virginia, the Mountain State. The rain has lingered overnight, and I’m anticipating a day with a lot more low lying cloud and murk.
Karin has recommended a new café to me, in Romney, about an hour’s drive from Winchester. They open at 09:00, so I set off just after 08:00. I’m back on Route 50, which was my constant companion yesterday. The scenery is stunning. I drive through more than a few properly squally rain showers. Happily, the roads are all but empty, so it’s a relaxing drive.
Breakfast at Wild Roots is fab. I have a breakfast burrito that weighs almost as much as I do. It’s delicious. The coffee is strong, and helps resurrect my still fuzzy bonce.
Back on the road, I cruise along at between 70 and 80, and marvel at some of the place names on offer. Nutter Fort, Big Otter and St Albans are among my favourites. The weather’s starting to break a little, and there are some decent sunny spells along the journey. It’s a good 2 hours to the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum. On arrival, it’s a spectacular building, and still has the iron bars across the windows. It was originally designed to house 250 ‘inmates’ when it was built in the late 19th century, but peaked in the 1950s at a population of over 2,000. It was transformed into a museum back in 2004, and many of the rooms/cells are still in their original condition. It’s pretty horrifying. The tour guide tells me about the lobotomy experiments that were regularly conducted on patients that might have reported with something as straightforward as epilepsy. *Shudder*
It’s a 2 hour straight shot down the road to Huntington, my overnight stop. I picked Huntington because:
a) it’s approximately halfway between Berryville and Nashville, and
b) there’s a really cool sounding hot dog place that I wanna try.
The roads are getting much busier, but traffic’s still moving freely. I find myself pulling into Huntington in what feels like no time at all. My motel is basic, but clean and comfortable. Oooh, afternoon nap sounds fun.
21:30
I open the door to leave my room, and am met by a wall of rain. It’s absolutely pooning it down. My car’s only parked a few metres from cover, but I’m still beyond soggy when I get into it. It’s a 10 mile drive into the middle of absolutely nowhere to get to Hill Billy Hot Dogs, and the rain eases and then stops en-route. HBHD is a very cool, intentionally esoteric kinda place. The counter clerk apparently loves my accent. I Grant it up a bit (Hugh, not Mitchell), and she coos.
They offer an eating challenge hot dog called a Homewrecker. It’s close to 2 feet long (60cm for the civilised folks out there), and if eaten in less than 10 minutes, is free. Apparently the vast majority fail. I’m a little more circumspect with my order - a Hillbilly Dog, and some mac and cheese bites. The dog is excellent - properly smoked beef wiener (snigger), a quite poky chilli, mustard and raw onion. This is all washed down by a local IPA called Devil’s Anse - which I mistakenly hear as Devil’s Arse.
On my way back to my motel, the skies are brooding again. It’s warm and humid. I stop in at Walmart for some supplies. It’s comfortably the biggest supermarket I’ve ever seen - bigger than the cavernous hypermarchés I remember from trips to France as a kid.
Back in my room, I settle in for a Sunday night movie, Leon - which I haven’t seen for many years. It’s still a fabulous film, and I manage to keep my eyes open throughout. I make it to 21:30, and reckon that’s enough for today…Weiterlesen
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