Travelog
This diary tracks our progress along the Silk Roads, with episodes appearing in date order, most recent first. You can get to earlier entries by turning pages at the bottom of the screen.
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- Written by Andy Stone
- Category: Travelog
We have been celebrating Chinese Spring Festival this week, ushering in the new year. This one is pretty special as it is the Year of the Golden Pig, which symbolises great good luck and wealth and comes around once every 600 years, so please allow me to wish you luck and prosperity this year. The atmosphere has been incredible: like a nation-wide festival everywhere with huge crowds of families taking time just to stroll through streets lined with stalls selling every kind of Chinese delicacy (warning: heavy use of euphemism), music being performed from all directions, and fireworks lighting up the evening sky with beautiful showers of silver and gold. Our train journey to Chengdu sticks in the mind especially: by day we were passing through really spectacular mountainous scenery and by night every village and town we passed through seemed to hail our arrival with pretty explosions and swirls of light.
We reached Chengdu, like every other city now festooned with red lanterns and ribbons as if it were part of some gaudy dreamscape, in good time and on 19th Feb I went to the train station here to repeat my earlier Kunming experience. Same queues, if not more so, but this time I was a little more savvy and so approaching a policeman I looked bewildered, muttered 'ticket office?', and refused to understand anything said back to me (which was easy, because I couldn't). Taking pity the policeman marched me around to an otherwise sectioned off booth and granted me immediate access to the ticket lady thus ensuring that 4 hours was slashed to 4 minutes which was a blessed relief, I can tell you. I will say this for the police in China: apart from one minor incident outside the Forbidden City involving an elderly dissident, some pamphlets and swift bundling in to the back of a riot van the police have appeared helpful, kind and courteous throughout prompting me to think that they have a thing or two to teach the British Bobby. Certainly until now I never realised that policemen were genetically capable of smiling and it has contributed to a very relaxed and civil atmosphere all round.
Sadly on the ticket front there were no spare seats to Urumqi until 27th Feb, so I took a couple of hard sleepers for that date. This delay of some 8 days seriously compromises our plans and will mean that because of immovable visa dates we have little if any time in north-west China (Xinjiang, Uighar country) or indeed in Kazakhstan. As it turns out the staff at our hostel were amazed that I got a ticket for February at all, but that was only a minor consolation. Still, no use crying over spilled milk and this has afforded us the opportunity of exploring the extremely interesting West Sichuan area. Bordering Tibet it has a very dramatic landscape as it goes from low-lying flatlands in the east right up to the 4000+ metres Tibetan plateau in quite a short distance. Additionally the region is home to a great many Tibetans now, unlike Tibet itself which continues to be settled by Han Chinese at such a rate that we now have the ludicrous situation whereby a small section of the capital, Lhasa, is known as the 'Tibetan Quarter'. There is a one-week circuit from our hostel that is serviced by intermittent public transport and which should be perfect for us as it allows us to live amongst Tibetan families and see a wide variety of this special land...
..Or it would do. Unfortunately the Year of the Pig has little to say about health, and we are both currently laid low with another stinker of a cold: I would gladly settle for Year of the Lint-free Tissue right now. Most frustrating, and looking back it is possible to trace every illness we've suffered since October to journeys on Chinese public transport. The constant repeated hacking and spitting by the Chinese has to been seen to be believed and I'm sad to report that the government's attempt to curb this filthy behavior has been about as successful as the Great Leap Forward - a Pathetic Stumble Backwards if ever there was one. So no Tibetan adventuring for us and now our only consolation is that we get to recover in this chilly but not unbearably so region rather than Urumqi with its -16C. This has to be a good thing but I can practically taste the adventuring to be had right on my doorstep, tantalizing, frustrating and so completely out of reach.
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- Written by Andy Stone
- Category: Travelog
Our second time in Laos was woefully short-lived as we aimed for China before the visa expired, and before Spring Festival brought all transport to a halt. In fact, just as we arrived in Vientiane bus station from a Bangkok train followed by a short bus over the border, our coach to Kunming was there waiting. Ellen cursed me up and down for my too-lucky arrangements and eventually I did concede to skip it and take the next one, allowing us to take a shower and a nap between countries.
When we did get on the coach I was grateful for the break, as the journey was a mammoth 40 hour epic spanning 2 nights. At least it was a sleeper coach like we came down on and we broke frequently enough that it was all quite bearable. The border was a breeze as ever and soon we were walking the streets of Kunming back to The Hump hostel, with that strange feeling that comes from being somewhere familiar that really shouldn't be. It felt in a way like coming home and the delightfully inefficient hospitality of the Hump was some consolation as we both struggled with the concept of no longer being in Laos. Ellen in particular was upset not to have had the chance to go back to Luang Prabang and say goodbye properly to some of our new friends there, but I guess its true what they say about there being no goodbyes on the road an one day we are bound to return.
So now we have made it to China before the visa expired, and are ready to take the silk roads home. Starting this journey from Thailand and Laos feels, albeit unorthodox, very appropriate actually as these are the modern-day centres of silk and textile excellence with a quality that surpasses all but the most expensive Beijing fabrics. And so I approach the hostel staff and ask them to book us on the first train to Chengdu, from which we can pick up the northern silk route on our way up to Xinjiang province. My request met with raucous laughter , as if the idea of a westerner, let alone a Chinese, getting train tickets now for Spring Festival (16th-18th Feb, but transport full at least a week either side) was unthinkably funny. I persisted, and after few frowns and phone calls the hostel lady said she may be able to get something for 18th but not for certain, so I asked them to make the arrangements. Unfortunately all lines were jammed from then on and the best advice she could give me was to go to the station and try in person. I thought I detected a twinkle in her eye...
Leaving Ellen there for what I though would be half an hour or so I hot-footed it down to the station only to be met with madness. Pure, enormous, seething chaos: the booking office, aircraft-hangar huge with its 23 very long deep counters, was totally full to overflowing and so the even more enormous plaza in front of the station had been cordoned off by small men with big guns, and it also was full of people being let through 10 at a time. There must have been hundreds of thousands, literally, of Chinese people there, and I was the only westerner I saw. After hours and hours I finally got almost to the front of a queue... when it decided to close for lunch. Aargh! Anyway a bit of a wait and it re-opened, and relying purely on my 2 Chinese words, 'hello' and 'thank you', a contrived air of relaxedness, and a winning smile I somehow came away with the last 2 sleeper tickets for 17th (take that, hostel!), which by even odder luck were for the the cheaper hard-sleeper class which usually sells out first. Hoorah for jamminess! They said it couldn't be done...
A few days relaxing in and around Kunming before we depart on an overnighter to our favourite hostel in China: Sim's Cozy Gusthouse. We stayed there before with Nic and it is particularly pretty and welcoming, and the perfect place from which to launch ourselves onto the silk roads proper.
244 days without a smoke, and counting...
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- Written by Andy Stone
- Category: Travelog
Thursday 1-Feb-07
We spent the day in the safe shallows of our bay getting used to the snorkeling equipment - Ellen's first time and mine since childhood. We coughed and spluttered plenty at first but soon got used to it, and even near the beach saw some beautiful shoals of fish of every shape and colour, and the most amazing giant clams: purple-lipped with iridescent green interiors. with some trepidation we agreed that we were now ready for a boat trip out to the reef itself, and so signed up. I just about had time to fit a snooze in before tea, a good warm-up for a really good, deep sleep afterwards.
Having managed to fit in at least 3 snoozes yesterday I still slept like a log, waking just about in time for breakfast. Maybe its because I haven't had caffeine for over a week, or maybe because I am on a beach and therefore 'allowed' to relax, but I am sleeping like a baby and always happy to drop off for a nap at any time. And so I do after breakfast, before a last-minute snorkel practice before the afternoon trip, and for one young chap it was a very good thing that I did hit the water. I was passed by 2 lads on a kayak being a bit boisterous when out jumped one of them soon followed by the other. Much shrieking and splashing about made me curse them for disturbing the water and fish until I heard, garbled but clear enough, a plaintive 'Please, mister, please hep my friend the novice'. I looked up and just as in the famous poem realised that merry-making they were not: one guy was trying unsuccessfully to keep his friend's head above water and it was all getting a bit frenetic so I swam over, grabbing the drowning man at which point his friend thanked me profusely and let go. Charming! While he was relaxing I had his panic-stricken mate to deal with, who had clearly chosen the 'flap around madly and try to remain fully submerged' tactic to aquatic survival. Eventually I decided on a head-lock and a swift punch to the kidneys which seemed to do the trick, and was then able to lift him clear for long enough to slap him on the back thereby producing the desired jet of water from the lungs. Just like a stone carp in a water-fountain, I though, but at least he's still with me. Feeling rather pleased that my life-saver's badge (age: 12) had finally come in handy, and amazed that I still remembered what to do, I rolled him over, got underneath and swam to shallow safety while Ellen rescued their boat and brought it over (they don't call us Accident and Emergency for nothing you know). 'Sorry, thank you, very very thank you; I am first time snorkel'. 'Really?', I asked incredulously, before wondering if I had time for a quick snooze before lunch...
At 2 the boat came and took a dozen of us out to the beginning of a big reef. On with the gear, and after watching everyone else smoothly back-flip over the side I half-slither half-trip over into the water and rather unceremoniously present myself to... another world entirely.
The water is so clear that on a good day visibility is up to 40 metres, and the reef so shallow that even with a snorkel all an be seen. I was in no way prepared for the sights before me and can't adequately describe them. I saw forests of psychedelic coral, some smooth and bulbous, others complex fractals of spikiness but all incredible hues of blues, reds, greens and yellows. The number and variety of multi-coloured fish was overwhelming, with shoals of 100's of fish passing straight through us. Big purple fish stopping by some cleaner-wrass for a quick wash, vivid scarlet jellyfish, huge angel fish with ribbon-like dorsal fins stretching away behind them, parrot fish, tiger fish, and so it goes on. My mind was well and truly blown and can well understand the addiction that takes hold of divers and snorkelists.
Saturday 3-Feb-07
Dreamed of fish! Woke late, snoozed all morning on the beach and spent the afternoon walking a nature trail to the other campsite through primary forest that was incredibly lush, and it was amazing to see monkeys just going about their everyday lives in the branches. Walking back along the beach in time for tea we saw some boats belonging to the Moken, the sea-gypsies that live on a settlement on the island directly to the south of us. Truly dispossessed in that they have next to nothing and are not even legitimised by being formally recognised by the Thai government they nonetheless spend their days within a rich (albeit highly endangered) cultural tradition based on the sea that has been slowly shaped by the centuries, not really touched by the modern world too much. They smile, laugh, relax and are pretty outgoing when they come to the north island to trade with us corralled tourists; for me they are still further testament to traditional ways of life, and to how mistaken the good intentions of development agencies are, coming like missionaries before them from the west and who equate poverty with a problem to be resolved, who think that American style modernisation is the only cure. Long live the Moken, and I hope not to visit them at all during my stay.
Sunday 4-Feb-07
We took a boat out in the morning but it was very choppy: Ellen got sick and visibility was down to around 10 metres. for some reason our boatman thought we would most like to visit an area of dead coral populated by scores of very annoying jellyfish but despite his best efforts I did find some live reef, home to typically pretty coral fish. One of the other snorkelists saw a black-tipped shark and I saw a barracuda which was very exciting, my biggest fish to date. On the boat back the others were glum because of the conditions but as I am new I don't know any better; I loved just drifting around submerged in this other alien world. Everyone keeps on about wanting to see sharks and sea-turtles but for me the coral itself is enchanting, along with the myriad of bright patterned fish that rely on it.
This afternoon I just found time for a snooze between lunch and dinner, as well of a couple of highly successful games of munchkin. Its a hard life but I'm coping.
We have realised with our usual perfect timing that we should be entering China at Chinese New Year (Spring Festival). Very interesting and all the rest of it, but problematic in that it is 1 of 2 times in the year when around half of the 1.2 billion population decide to travel to the countryside/ relatives/ beach/ city. In a word: gridlock, and train tickets become rarer than hen's teeth. This may mean we have to cut short our time here, maybe leaving as soon as the day after tomorrow. Let's hope common sense doesn't prevail: it hasn't done so far on the journey so I don't see why it should start now.
Monday 5-Feb-07
I stuck my head outside the tent, still half-asleep, and came face-to-face with a monkey (a pig-tailed macaque). 'This is not Stroud' I told myself decisively as I watched it amble up the nearest tree and scratch its arse ('or maybe it is'...) and spent my refreshingly cold shower listening to tropical birdsong while contemplating the gentle milky first light of another day in paradise. The mornings' snorkel session was sans Ellen as she was still a little rough, and in fact she made the right decision: the sea was really choppy and even I struggled to make it back to the boat against the current on one occasion. we had gone to a place noted for sharks and the obsession that takes hold of my fellow divers became evident again: on coming back into the boat the others noted a cut in my leg where blood was pouring out. 'Quick, blood' they quipped, 'stick his leg overboard to draw the sharks in!'. I'm not entirely sure they were kidding, maybe it was the way they salivated.
Ellen did come on the afternoon trip and thanks to Aussie John's sea-sickness tablets she loved it. The winds has slowed right down and the sea was clearing nicely: together we found a really beautiful clear shallow reef with amazing sea-life, and so inevitably we made the decision to not leave tomorrow; just one more day so we could take advantage of the glorious conditions. Phooey to common sense and 3 hurrahs for adventure on the high seas!
By the evening having done 2 trips I was exhausted, and by a stroke of luck the telly in the cafeteria was showing one of my favorite movies: In The Name Of The Father. The English establishment portrayed in all its finest glory, and Pete Postlethwaite turning in yet another 'good man dying' performance.
Tuesday 6-Feb-07
I got wind of a possible unscheduled 2nd boat for the morning that may try to reach Ao Chaok (Jak Bay), reputedly splendid reef but tricky to reach in choppy weather so not visited for a few days. Luckily conditions were perfect so the trip was on, and we stopped on the way at a small island that must have found the only strong current for miles around and which had not yet cleared. However there was lovely coral, plenty of stunning purple crown-of-thorns starfish, and best of all, unbelievably, I spotted a shark! It completely took my breath away: it was a beauty, a reef shark around 2 metres long and bulky with it cruising about 3 metres below me. We swam together for what felt like forever but was maybe 10 seconds if I was lucky, before with the subtlest flicks of its tail it sped off to my left. I really hadn't got the hype around sharks before, always wondering what was so wrong with the other fabulous sea-life, but when I did have an encounter it was literally awesome: they have such a majestic presence and it felt like being beside a god. Maybe it was the way they are so perfectly adapted to their environment, maybe it is their gracefulness despite the large size, but somehow I know that my life changed then in some subtle way.
Jak Bay itself was very pretty, like an underground garden of coral teeming with life. Near the end of the session I saw a sea-turtle (looking back through the reference book at base it turned out to be an endangered hawks-bill turtle). I've no idea how old it was but it looked ancient and quite a size: its shell was just over half a metre in diameter and it was just doing its own turtley thing. I was able to float above it for a couple of minutes just observing before it gave a deft flip of its fins, taking off at a pace that was in no way hinted at by its slothful, crusty appearance. I have heard that they can take care of themselves pretty well too, and that it would be a brave or foolish shark that tried its luck.
Elated and tired I nonetheless went out on the afternoon boat, as this would be my last chance - we really do have to head back now. I must say that from our sun-drenched beach the prospect of rushing up to Urumqi, currently at -16 degrees C, is not exactly appealing but needs must and I'm sure the adventure will be a good one.
Wednesday 7-Feb-07
It takes precisely 5 paces from our tent to the beach, which apparently owes its perfect softness to the fact that it is largely fish pooh: they eat the coral and turn it into this glorious white powder, knowledge of which has not dampened my enthusiasm for it at all; indeed, would that I could do the same with curry.
At lunchtime we left paradise and new friends for a day of varied travel: a boat to the mainland, bus to Chumphon an a very late overnight train to Bangkok. I was sad to leave the beaches and the timelessness that belongs to small island life but with batteries now fully recharged the promise of new adventures along the silk roads rives us on. We manage to get sleeper tickets and so the now familiar gentle rocking of the train lulls me to a deep and happy sleep.
Thursday 8-Feb-07
As we approach Bangkok my feelings for the place couldn't be more different than when we came through over a week ago: because of our rush to get across the Chinese border in time we have only allowed ourselves until tomorrow evening in the capital and now ironically I am ready for a taste of the big city. I am frustrated that this leaves us such little time, not even enough to scratch the surface, but this is a feeling I will have to get used to as we race home trying to make up time. Gone are the lazy days of slow exploration: now is the time when we shall see the promise of adventure whizz past us as we speed on; I will have to view this as a reconnaissance mission that will shape a future journey for I am sure that infuriating, chaotic, irrational, vibrant and highly addictive Asia hasn't seen the last of either of us.
Arriving, we land on our feet once again. Heading straight for the heart of the action, Banglamphu district, we came to Lampha House, an oasis of courtyard-ed tranquility and a tip from the lovely Helda from Norway via Koh Surin. Alas they were completely full, but thanks to a 2 hour delay on our train we had arrived precisely at check-out time and a 5 minute wait resulted in a very nice and improbably cheap room for the night. It was lucky I didn't check my email before turning up, else I would've found the message from them saying not to come because they had no places left. The people arriving immediately after us were turned away, saying that every room was now booked solid until March. March! Lady luck watches over us once again, and I can thoroughly recommend this perfect guesthouse should you be wanting to live it up in Bangkok any time.
We spent a delightful evening in the company of a good friend and ex-colleague Tiffany, along with her convivial husband and work-mates. The restaurant was called Cabbages and Condoms and existed in order to promote AIDS awareness, and unlike you would expect from such a place in England it turned out top quality authentic Thai food: my black mushroom and tofu curry with red rice was heavenly. Of course it was great to catch up with an old friend of the kind where it felt like we had only seen each other last week. I was happy to see her enjoying life so much and not surprised to hear that there were no plans to return to England any time soon. Although nothing was said, and certainly she was looking as svelte as ever, I wouldn't be at all surprised if the world was graced with little Tiffanies before too long.
Friday 9-Feb-07
Woke late (surprised?) and spent a very relaxing morning writing postcards in the courtyard before visiting the Grand Palace, a huge and dazzling array of stunning temples, buildings and statues. My main reason for going was to see the fabled Emerald Buddha which I had heard a lot about in Laos. It is a sacred treasure with many histories to suit many points of view, but what is known is that it is made of jade and not emerald, it came to Laos from the Chiang Mai region when that area became united by marriage with Laos, and for 200 years became the symbolic heart of the nation until it was stolen by a sneak-thief of a Thai King amongst much pomp and ceremony, and taken to Bangkok where it resides to this day. The Buddha was tiny and extremely beautiful, currently draped in its Cold Season garments which made me laugh: its sweltering today and very humid; I'd hate to be here in the Hot or Wet seasons. Nonetheless it was wonderful to see the artifact in such good condition, and I'm happy to report that the Thais take as good care of their stolen plunder as we do in the British Museum.
The tantalising glimpse we have had of Bangkok, and Thailand in general, has been wonderful. I had worried that I might find a kind of dystopic future Laos and to some extend Thai life does seem to to be given over to commerce and the pursuit of the American dream. I'm sure much of life's richness has been lost here but despite all this most people smile, and if someone fails to sell me something they still go on to help where they can. The persistent personality cult of the king has ensured a continuity and preservation of Thai culture and spirit that a republic could not have managed, and this is echoed in the brilliant vibrancy on the streets of Bangkok. I would love to return one day to explore this country properly but for now, Laos here we come (again).
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- Written by Andy Stone
- Category: Travelog
Friday 26-Jan-07
Against all odds we finally managed to haul ourselves onto a songthaew and out of Laos. Having contacted seemingly every freight operator in our quest to cross the Indian Ocean we realise just how little cargo goes from South East Asia to India over water now, and for those that do make the run the story is always the same: 125 Euros a day per person plus 300 Euros insurance. The game has been sewn up and as this 5 day journey would cost us close to a grand each it has become a rich man's sport rather than the cheap way to hitch long-distance that it used to be. At least that decided our route finally: along the northern silk roads from China through Central Asia to Turkey. Conveniently we had the foresight to get a double-entry Chinese visa just in case of this, good for re-entry and time before 20-Feb-07, and so we set off knowing that we are drastically short on time and money now in... completely the opposite direction. To hell with it: turquoise waters lapping softly against white sand were calling to us; they say time and tide wait for no man and this particular tide had a lovely, gentle 'sploosh' to it.
We entered Thailand at a labyrinthine cross-border market (Chong Mek), easy and colourful, and stepped straight onto the first of several - so it seemed to us after tumbledown Laos - very swish buses eventually took us overnight to the capital, Bangkok.
Saturday 27-Jan-07
Bangkok was the system-shock we were expecting: huge sprawling brash impersonal noisy and smelly, and an age away from Laos. I hope this is not a vision of the future and that Laos resists 'progress', at least for a little longer; long enough to teach those of us who would listen that we always have a choice, that this contagious Americanised globalised capitalist based hell can be rejected. Needless to say we resolved to leave immediately in search of our turquoise dream and hot-footed it over to the train station, onto a 3rd class carriage bound for Chumphon: gateway to the South. It was really good to be back on a train, the first this year, and watch Thailand roll past sparser and less wild than Laos but beautiful nonetheless, enough to spark my desire for exploration which this time, the first so far, needs to be denied licence if we are to get back to China in time. After a pleasant 9 hours we were greeted at the other end by our guest house owners who saw us safely to our room, to our first bed in a couple of days. Oh the bliss!
Sunday 28-Jan-07
From Chumphon a bus took us to Ranong, our first taste of the fabled Andaman coast and on to the ferry for our island, Koh Phayam. This and nearby Koh Chang are on their own as the most northerly of the Andaman Coast islands and are tucked in just below the Burmese border. They are very little frequented, have no real development to speak of beyond a handful of beach huts and are described as 'laid-back' and 'idyllic'. Certainly sounds like the place for us, and the journey there was very interesting as we passed the southern tip of Burma and its outlying islands, complete with casinos and resorts where the Thais go to gamble (illegal in Thailand) and westerners go to renew their Thai visas. A world away from the principles espoused by the current highly corrupt 'socialist' junta who, like almost everywhere we have been in Asia, appear to be free-falling down the communist tube in their own unique totalitarian way.
On arrival we were greeted by a couple of motorbike taxis (much to Ellen's consternation) who took us to our hut on the longest beach (4 kilometres long!), over at the other side of the island. 4 Kilometres of golden sand and virtually no people. The place we were staying was comfortable, the hosts friendly; the sea was actually warm, a first for me, and the island had a great natural beauty to it. But something was not right for us: we couldn't put our finger on it, so put it down to tiredness and resolved to sleep on it.
Monday 29-Jan-07
Damn dreams and fantasies! This truly wonderful island has it all nearly: as well as the empty 4km beach of clean golden sand, the warm water, the lush interior, we saw hornbills and all sorts of other wildlife; there was even a really good vegetarian restaurant nearby. I walked over to the only village and found it to be delightful: bubbling with life in that way only small island communities do, and no sight of corporates (yet). So what was our problem? Just that the water wasn't turquoise, and it crashed rather than lapped! A little research revealed an even less-visited island a little way down the coast, a protected national park where there was nothing but a handful of tents, where the water had tuquoisity in abundance and lapped authentically, and where the snorkeling was terrific on account of the surrounding coral reefs and crystal clarity of the sea. Would we find paradise there?
I confess I didn't know what to do: for all of this trip we had no pre-conceptions and just arrived places, allowing them to impress their qualities onto us. This approach felt right and good, as though we were not so much seeking out some imagined experience but rather openly engaging, learning and being changed by the people an places we encountered. Now we were contemplating doing exactly the opposite: adopting some kind of colonial attitude by leaving this idyll to hunt after somewhere that we could more easily fit into our fantasy. My mind made a strong case for staying but the dream was strong and long-held: we would go hunting turquoise.
Tuesday 30-Jan-07
An early boat and bus from Ranong to Kuraburi brought us to an enthusiastic young chap called Tom, who incidentally could help us with everything we needed! Surprisingly it turned out that he really could and with absolutely no effort on our part we found ourselves with a cheap room for the night, a boat ticket to our island for the morning, a rented tent for the duration and some snorkels and flippers thrown in for god measure. He even picked us up in the morning, drove us to the boat and saw s and our gear safely on board. Tom is a real gem: a wide boy that actually delivers, all with a smile and a good price.
Wednesday 31-Jan-07
And so it is that we step into our dream. Tropical paradise, if it has a name, is called Koh Surin and despite its reputation as just about the finest snorkeling in all of Thailand it doesn't attract many people: no bars, shops or clubs, an entry fee (as it is a national park), camping only apart from 6 vastly over-priced bungalows, and just one cafeteria at each of the 2 camp sites. We chose the quieter of the 2 and pitched our tent on the edge of a pure white beach of the finest sand imaginable with clear, fading to turquoise, shallow water stretching out to the reefs. Surrounding us is bird-song of astonishing variety and unfamiliarity and the island we are on, uninhabited, is cloaked in primary forest (primary forest!) that is home to innumerable species including pig-tailed macaques that frequently come near the camp to scavenge. So it turns out that against all of my gut instincts we were so right to chase our dreams. We have found them to sch an extent that neither of us can barely believe we are here at all.
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- Written by Andy Stone
- Category: Travelog
We spent the day having quite a leisurely tour of the Bolaven Plateau, a high area north-east of Pakse renowned for its tea, coffee and cardamon plantations and spectacular waterfalls. It was a top day all round where we learned about the tea and coffee harvesting process (the plantations smelt so good and fragrant), walked in the relatively cool high-up areas to wonderful deep waterfalls, and spend some time in the afternoon at a Katou hill tribe village - most interesting and certainly great to get up high out of the oppressive heat for a while.
Returning to base I found 2 interesting things waiting for me: one was an offer of freight transport from Malaysia to India or Sri Lanka thanks to a chance meeting with a nice lady this morning - expensive and needs further investigation but certainly a possibility if the dates line up. The other was an accepted place volunteering on the Naucrates sea-turtle conservation project for 2 weeks on a small idyllic island off the Andaman Sea coast of Thailand. The timing is very tight and may indeed preclude our involvement but it is an amazing opportunity if we manage to fit it in.